Seeking Out Revenge
by hotelcortez
Summary: Sam is kidnapped and tortured by a married couple seeking out revenge on John Winchester. Sam is 16 and Dean is 20. I DO NOT OWN THESE CHARACTERS OR ANYTHING TO DO WITH THEM. Read warnings at the top of the chapters carefully.
1. Chapter 1

"You ready?" asked Dean, staring at his brother as he turned around to grab his school bag from the back seat, "Last day at this school before we head North."

"Yeah I know," replied the sixteen-year-old miserably, "I actually made some friends here and now I have to leave them behind… again."

"Come on man, it can't be that bad," Dean said, "Saving lives is so much better than sitting in the same dump day after day."

"Whatever," Sam huffed, opening the impala door and stepping out, "I'll see you later."

"I'll be here to pick you up at 3, try not to be late," Dean warned, "Dad wants to leave as soon as possible."

"Ok," Sam replied before turning around and walking up the path into the building, it was going to be a long day.

. . .

"You alright Sam?" asked Lindsay as her best friend seated himself beside her, "You've got on a bitchface that could make a grown man cry."

"I'm fine," he replied curtly, "I just found out that I'm moving again and today will be my last day here."

"Awww shucks," she said, stroking his arm, "Chris is gonna be so upset."

"I know," Sam said, rubbing his forehead at the thought of losing his male best friend, "Could you tell him when you see him, I have to get to class early today and tell my science teacher I won't be coming back."

"Sure thing," she smiled, "I'll miss you Sammy."

"You too Lindsay," he said, pulling her into a hug, "Just don't ever call me Sammy again."

As he walked away with Lindsay giggling behind him, Sam couldn't help but think about how many school friends he'd been forced to leave behind and how many more were to come.

. . .

Running into her office and slamming the door, Paige Anderson pulled out her phone and urgently dialled her husband's number.

"Michael!" she hissed into the phone, "The Winchesters are leaving… tonight!"

"What?" he shouted from the motel room that was situated next to the one John and Dean were currently staying in, "I thought we'd have at least another couple of days before we had to grab the kid!"

"Well too bad, I heard him saying goodbye to his friend. You need to get here now – you know I'm not strong enough to lift him on my own!" she said urgently.

"Ok, ok, I'm coming," Michael retorted, "Don't do anything until I get there."

"Of course I won't," she said with an eye roll, "You really think I want this to fail after everything the Winchesters put us through?"

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm just stressed that we had to move this forward after such careful planning." He said, grabbing his stuff of the table and walking out the door, "I love you."

"I love you too," she said back, "See you in a minute."

. . .

"Sam Robbins I need you to come to the Principal's Office," said a bored looking teacher, standing in the doorway of a classroom and waiting as the boy walked over with a confused expression on his face.

Sam followed as he was led into a small room with a huge desk in the middle of it and a large cupboard on the left side.

"You're not the Principal," he said as he noticed a tall, dark haired woman staring at him from behind a computer.  
"No I'm not, your usual Principal is ill today and couldn't make it so I'm here instead," Paige lied, before beckoning to the seat in front of her, "Please sit down."

Sam nervously lowered himself into the chair and wandered why he was there – he hadn't done anything wrong and didn't see a reason to be praised. He also thought that the woman before him seemed oddly familiar, he just couldn't put his finger on why.

"Now Sam, please listen to me carefully," Paige said, eyeing her husband as he crept out of the cupboard with a handkerchief in his hand, "you are probably wandering why you are here."

"Yes Miss…" Sam said, hoping she would reveal her name to him.

"Anderson," she announced, watching as his eyes widened and recognition threw itself at him. "I'm guessing you remember who we are then," she said sadistically as Michael suddenly grabbed him from behind and thrust the handkerchief into his face.

Sam had finally remembered who the woman was, when a hand suddenly flew in front of his face and the smell of chloroform immediately filled his nose. Dread pulsed through him as he started clawing at the handkerchief and kicking his legs in desperation, hoping to fight off the attacker behind him. No such luck. Everything went black.

 **Sorry this chapter is so rushed, I just wanted to get the story going quickly.**


	2. Chapter 2

"Goddamnit Sammy, do you not know what I mean when I say 'don't be late'?" huffed Dean, tapping on the edge of the steering wheel and staring into the school gates, "Dad's gonna be so annoyed."

Another ten minutes passed before Dean finally opened his door and entered the school in search of his brother. He scanned the hallway for a few seconds but ended up walking up to a member of staff and asking them for directions to the office.

When he got there, he walked up to a secretary and asked her if she could page Sam Robbins to the front entrance.

"Oh I don't need to do that," she smiled, "Sam was called to the Principal's office earlier today, he's probably still in there."

"Why was my brother with the principal?" Dean asked, as she stood up and led him down a small corridor to a closed door.

"I'm not sure," she answered, "We had a substitute Principal in today and she seemed insistent on talking to Sam, I'm not supposed to question her."

The secretary tried the door but found it was locked.

"That's funny," she said and knocked instead.

"What's this substitute's name?" asked Dean, panic beginning to build inside of him at the thought of Sam locked in a room with a stranger.

"She said her name was Pamela Adams but not everyone was convinced she was telling the truth as she twitched nervously every time she said it," replied the woman who was now pulling a set of keys out of her pocket, "Now I think of it I don't remember ever being assigned a substitute for today."

"You mean to say that you've had a lying stranger walking around this school all day?" Dean questioned, his voice getting louder with every word.

"I'm sorry Mr Robbins, but as I said I'm not allowed to ask questions," she replied nervously, knowing that a young boy could possibly be in danger because of her.

Cursing under his breath, Dean watched as the door was opened to reveal an empty office with papers scattered everywhere, an upturned chair and a cupboard with the doors wide open. There was no Principal and there was no Sammy.

"Oh no," whispered the secretary, walking over to Sam's school bag on the floor before throwing her hands in front of her face, "What is that smell?!"

"Chloroform," Dean said almost inaudibly, "We can smell Chloroform."

Both people in the room suddenly paled and slowly backed out of the office, fear gripping them as they tried to get a hold of the situation.

"I'm so sorry," stuttered the woman as she dashed over to her desk and picked up a phone, "I'll call the police!"

Dean nodded and turned away from her; he didn't want her to see him as he brought his hands to his face and took deep breaths to fight off a panic attack that was threatening to show up at his front door. He knew that being scared would only make it worse and he needed to try and find Sammy before it was too late.

With trembling hands, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone to make sure the police weren't the only ones who would come and help. Speed dialling the number, he brought the phone to his ear and listened to the ringing as the person on the other end finally picked up.

"Dad, Sammy's been taken."

. . .

The first thing Sam noticed when he woke up was the potent smell of rubber, the second was that his hands and feet were bound tightly behind him and he had zero chance of moving them.

"What the hell?!" he tried to ask himself before realising that his mouth was also taped shut. This was not good.

All of a sudden he was thrown forward and the sound of a vehicle stopping rung in his ears "That explains the smell of rubber," he thought - he was in the boot of a car. Memories of the Principal's Office appeared in his mind as he remembered how he'd got there and then it came on too soon: the realisation that he'd been kidnapped by the Andersons.

Dread pulsed through him as he remembered the sight of the mangled, dead children that the Andersons were responsible for. They were demon worshipping psychos who had tortured and murdered their 7-year-old twins in hope that demons would see them and use them as meat suits. They thought that demons should be the ones to rule the Earth and were willing to do anything to make that happen.

Luckily the Winchesters were able to stop them before they could also hurt their 4-year-old child, John Winchester had wanted to kill them but Sam (10 years old at the time) convinced him otherwise with his puppy dog eyes and both the Andersons ended up with life imprisonment sentences.

"Well that was a stupid idea, wasn't it?" Sam thought to himself, "Because, apparently, they got out."

Seconds passed like hours as Sam was thrown around the boot with no means of protection. His head was throbbing and he knew that he'd be sporting some serious bruising the next day from the way he was smashing endlessly into the sides of the car. "If only the Andersons could drive a little more safely," he thought moodily to himself.

After what felt like years, the vehicle finally came to a complete stop and Sam heard two people stepping out. Bracing himself for what was about to happen, he winced as the trunk was opened and he was hit by the glare of a torch.

"Have a nice ride?" Michael said with a smirk as he noticed the way Sam had curled into a ball to protect himself, "you can trust me when I say this – you ain't seen nothing yet, Winchester."

Sam grimaced as he watched Michael draw his fist back and land a punch directly between his eyes, he moaned loudly and cursed the pain as he was dragged, once again, into the land of unconsciousness.


	3. Chapter 3

**Note: There's some swearing and violence in this chapter**

John stormed up the path and threw open the double doors as he entered the police-infested high school.

"WHERE'S MY SON?!"

"Dad, dad, calm down!" said Dean hurriedly, walking away from a policeman to speak to his Dad, "We'll find him."

"Hell yeah we will," he snapped back, anger still plastered on his face, "Now tell me everything that's happened."

"Well it seems, Mr Robbins, that your son was kidnapped by a woman posing as the substitute Principal," informed a police officer, "She called Sam to the office and somehow managed to chloroform him and smuggle him out of the school. We believe that she did not work alone due to the papers all over the office that indicate your son put up quite the struggle."

"Of course he did," said Dean, "He's a strong boy."

"I don't doubt it for a second," said the policeman comfortingly, "I'm going to give you a description of the woman and the fake name she used to get into the school, I hope this can may help us try to identify her."

"Thank you officer," said Dean, noting that way his dad was still furious and looked like he could blow his top at any moment, "Let's look at this and see if we can figure who this bitch is."

Trying to take deep breaths, John looked at the paper with Dean and hoped desperately that it would give them a lead on where to start looking.

"Dark hair, small build, brown eyes, tattoo of a small flame on the back of her neck," he muttered to himself, trying to piece the information together, "Damnit she sounds familiar."

"I know what you mean," Dean replied, remembering all the enemies they had acquired over the years, "This can't be good."

"According to her fake name, her initials could be PA and that rings a lot of bells," added John, shuffling uncomfortably, "I just don't know which ones."

"Hmmm you're right," said Dean, "Bobby will know; he's got a good memory."

"Good idea," said John, pulling out his phone and scrolling down to the contact he was looking for. He waited four rings before Bobby picked up and a gruff voice could be heard through the phone.

"What is it, Winchester?"

"Sam's been kidnapped," answered John, hearing the curse at the other end of the phone and giving the woman's description, "The police think she wasn't alone."

"Goddamnit John that's got to be Paige Anderson," Bobby practically yelled as he thought about how horrible that would be for the boy he considered to be his son, "And I'm willing to bet money on her husband being the one who helped her."

"Oh God, you're right," John moaned, "Sam's in big trouble now."

"What is it Dad?!" demanded Dean, seeing the way his dad suddenly paled and huge worry lines appeared on his face.

"Bobby, I'm going to text you the coordinates of the motel we're staying at, please try to meet us there," John said into the phone before typing out a few digits and putting it back into his pocket. "We think Sam's been taken by the Anderson's."

"Oh no," whispered Dean, remembering the abuse that the couple had inflicted on their own children, "There's no telling what they'll do to him."

"I know, Dean," replied John, putting his hand on his eldest's shoulder, "Which is why we have to find him now."

. . .

Once again, Sam woke up to darkness.

But this time he actually had space to move and there was no smell of rubber.

As his eyes adjusted, he noticed that he was in a small, dark room with a dirty mattress and a toilet area in the corner.

"Well isn't this just 5-star accommodation?" he said to himself as the rattle of chains told him that he was shackled to the wall by his wrist and wouldn't be going anywhere soon. He had also been stripped of his socks, shoes, jacket and over shirt; leaving him in just his jeans and plain white t shirt that was now more of a dirty grey colour.

He reached into his pockets to try and find something that could potentially be used as a lock pick but sighed when he realised that they'd been emptied of everything, including his wallet and phone.

"Well, things couldn't get any worse," he said into the darkness, unsuccessfully trying to slip the chain off his wrist.

"Now that is where you're wrong," said a voice, as a large silhouette filled the doorway, "You are going to be hurting a lot more later."

"My dad is going to kill you," Sam retorted, "And you'll hurt a lot more than I will."

"Let me show you what happens to smartasses," Michael said, charging into the room and landing a firm kick in the kid's face with his big, black boot. "Now I suggest you shut up before I start breaking your bones."

Sam fell back into the wall, clutching his face and trying to stop the blood that was now spilling from his nose as the world spun around him and pain swirled through his face. He bit back the insult that he wanted to use in hope that Michael would leave him alone once more.

"You took everything from us," Paige said, striding into the room with a sadistic smile and shutting the door behind her, "Now we get our revenge."

"She's right," added Michael, crouching down in front of the bloodied teenager, "We're gonna sacrifice you this time and the demons won't be able to ignore us anymore."

"You really think the demons give a shit about you?" spat Sam, "They didn't notice you before and they're not going to this time so give up whilst you still can."

"Oh Sam, you're a Winchester and I'm going to use you to bring that idiotic family of yours to its knees; we're going to kill the demons' biggest enemies; do you really think that will go unnoticed?" laughed Paige, nodding to her husband as he landed another punch on Sam's right eye.

"That was for answering back," said Michael firmly, as the kid moaned loudly and tried to rub his eye but ended up wincing in pain once more.

"And that," added Paige, backhanding him across the mouth and splitting his lip, "Is a warning to not mess with us anymore or you'll find yourself in deep shit."

"She's right," said Michael, standing up and putting his arm around her, "Because we have so many torture instruments that we are desperate to use on you so try not to make it worse for yourself."

Sam watched through his swollen eye as Paige quickly pulled out a phone and snapped a picture of him before laughing and walking out the room with her husband.

Carefully, he bought his hand to his face to work out how badly injured he was. He discovered a lump on his forehead, a puffed up eye, a severe nose bleed and a split lip that was also bleeding.

"Dad's gonna freak when he sees that photo," he thought sadly to himself, as he tried to distract himself from the throbbing pain in his face. It was going to be a long night.

 **I'm not really happy with the way this chapter turned out but oh well.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Note: Even more language and swearing (they are hunters after all)**

"So if you were an Anderson and you'd kidnapped a Winchester, where would you go?" asked Dean, pacing up and down the motel room as John glared at the wall from where he was sat.

"I'd get the hell away from here!" he snapped, gesturing angrily at the door.

"Dad, we have to wait for Bobby," said Dean, trying not to take offense to how horrible his dad was being, "You know he's the brains when it comes to finding the unfindable."

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry." John said, "I just feel so useless sat here whilst my son is going through the unthinkable."

"Sammy's a fighter and he'll look after himself until we find him," Dean assured, trying to make himself feel better as well as his dad. Truth was, he didn't know how much longer he could go on; his brother was missing and his dad was slowly going insane - it was enough to drive anyone up the wall. But no matter how much he wanted to, he didn't allow himself to feel sad because he knew that whatever he was going through was probably nothing compared to Sammy.

John, however, was brooding like there was no tomorrow. He was already making a list of things he was angry about: the fact that his son was missing; the fact that his other son was pacing the room and the fact that Bobby hadn't arrived yet – where had the old man got to? Didn't he realise the Winchesters were a priority right now?

Both of the hunter's thought processes were suddenly interrupted by an abrupt knock at the door, exchanging quick glances the two men grabbed their guns and crept swiftly towards the door.

Motioning for Dean to stay back, John slowly eased himself towards the peephole and turned off the safety switch on his gun. He wasn't taking any chances right now.

However, he was gifted with the feeling of relief as he caught sight of an impatient Bobby standing outside the door.

"Bobby - glad you could make it," he said, reaching down and pulling the door handle to let the hunter in.

"Of course I made it," came the gruff reply, "I ain't just gonna stand by when a couple of lunatics get their hands on Sam."

"Now that's what I needed to hear," sighed Dean, "We need all the help we can get."

"Which is why I've phoned pretty much every hunter I know and explained the situation to them – everyone's checking their surrounding areas for signs of the Andersons and are keeping their eyes open for anything that can help us," Bobby explained, noting the comfort that appeared briefly both of the Winchesters' faces. "Now if I'm going to help you, I need you to tell me everything."

. . .

Michael walked into his kitchen to find his beautiful wife hunched over Sam's phone, laughing her head off.

"What's so funny?" he asked with a smile.

"Oh I'm just reading the texts between Sam and Dean," she replied, "these two are really close – I can't wait to send Dean that picture."

Michael started laughing too when he thought of the look that would be on Dean's face when he saw his poor, little brother sporting so many bruises. It truly felt good to finally get some revenge.

"Speaking of which," said Paige, creeping up behind her husband and tracing her long nails up his neck in a spider-like motion, "when do we get to call them and force them to listen to their little baby screaming?"

"Whenever you want babe," Michael replied, spinning around and kissing her firmly on the lips, "but maybe we should spend some time together first."

"I'd like that very much," Paige giggled as Michael lifted her onto the counter and started unbuttoning the dress she'd been wearing to pose as a substitute Principal.

"May I say Mrs Anderson?" he teased, "That this dress looks very nice on you."

"Oh, aren't you a naughty boy?" Paige replied seductively, "I guess I'll have to teach you a lesson."

Forgetting all thoughts of revenge, the Andersons fell in love with each other all over again after spending what felt like forever away from each other. They didn't deserve anything the Winchesters did to them.

At least that's what they thought.

. . .

Sam covered his ears with his hands for the seventh time in the last five minutes, desperately hoping that he could block out the unmistakable noises that were coming from upstairs. It was bad enough that he'd been kidnapped, but now he had to listen to his kidnappers going at it. Were they fucking serious?!

Well they were fucking… that was for sure.

"Gross," he thought to himself.

. . .

"Bobby we've literally spent two hours discussing every single detail of this kidnapping, I don't know how much more of this I can take," John snapped, "Seriously my boy is missing right now!"

"Ok, let's start looking! Where do you think he is?" Bobby retorted, "Oh yeah – we don't have a fucking clue!"

"DON'T YOU EVER SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT!" John shouted, "SAM IS MY SON AND I AM NOT GOING TO LET YOU SLOW ME DOWN WHEN I'M TRYING TO FIND HIM!"

"YOU THINK I'M TRYING TO SLOW YOU DOWN?!" Bobby yelled, "I LOVE THAT BOY JUST AS MUCH AS YOU DO!"

"ALRIGHT ENOUGH!" Dean shouted, banging his fists on the table, "Dad your phone is ringing."

"What?!" John demanded, running over to his phone and seeing the unknown number flash up before him, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You were too busy yelling at Bobby," Dean answered angrily.

"Whatever," John said, pressing the green answer button, "Now shut up."

Dean huffed quietly to himself and seated himself at the table opposite Bobby, finding Sam was going to be impossible if they couldn't even have a conversation without freaking out. He was about to rest his head on the table when he saw how Bobby was staring worriedly into the corner.

Turning himself around, Dean saw his dad leaning against the wall and clutching the phone tightly in his right hand, his face whiter than it had ever been before.

. . .

"Hello John," Paige said icily into the phone, "Having fun now that you're burdened with one less child?"

"You touch a single hair on his head and I will destroy you," John replied menacingly, getting straight to the point, his voice was quiet but had the ability to terrify the bravest of people.

"Is that really how you speak to your babysitters?" Paige said sweetly, smiling sadistically at what was in front of her; Sam was currently strung up by his hands, his feet only just reaching the floor. "Little Sammy here might have to pay the price for that."

"Leave. Him. Alone." John growled, the anger building to dangerous levels.

"I don't think so," Paige growled back, "Now do me a favour and put your phone on speaker."

She waited for the click at the end of the phone before doing the same with her own phone and putting it on the table in front of her.

"Hello John, Dean and I'm guessing Bobby," Michael said from where he was stood behind Sam, "How are you?"

"Oh I'm doing just great," came the sarcastic reply from Dean, "I'd be doing even better if you let my brother go."

Sam's heart jumped a little at that, it made him happy to think that his brother was still looking out for him, even if his smart mouth would get him into trouble.

"I'm sending you a picture," said Paige, pulling out her own phone which also had John Winchester's number saved on it (they'd gotten it from Sam's phone), "Now I suggest you listen carefully or you'll be receiving more and more of these."

John waited a few seconds before hissing in anger at the sight of his youngest son lying bloodied on the floor of a cellar. It hurt like hell to see him like this and he knew that Dean would be heart broken when he saw it. Before he could try and hide it, the phone was snatched out of John's hands.

"Touch him again and you die," Dean threatened, his voice laced with menace as he stared down at his injured, little brother. Tears were already spilling down his face and he was desperately trying not to smash the phone against the wall.

"We will not be spoken to like that again," Paige shouted before turning to look at Sam, "You can thank your brother for this."

Sam tensed nervously as he listened carefully to Paige's threats and the sound of Michael moving around behind him. He was about to try and kick Paige in the stomach when he screamed in pain and surprise at the sudden feel of a whip on his back. Pain spread through him as he was lashed again, his entire back stinging and burning.

Paige grinned at the scene before her; never had she taken so much enjoyment from seeing someone in pain. She could hear shouts coming from the phone but chose to ignore them so she could truly focus on the beautiful sound of the youngest Winchester's desperate screams.

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter, it took me ages to write as I had huge writer's block when trying to piece it together. But I got there in the end, so please excuse any grammar/spelling mistakes. Have a great day - you deserve it.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Note: Mentions of torture in this chapter and a pretty graphic description of the aftermath of Sam being whipped.**

Dean stared angrily at the phone before him; not only had he been forced to listen to his brother being whipped but the Anderson's had also sent him a picture of an unconscious Sam strung up with at least 100 lashings covering his chest and back. The kid did not deserve that. No one deserved that.

All Dean could think about was the way his brother had screamed when the whip hit his back and the undoubtable the pain he was now in; marks like that didn't only hurt when they were administered… Sammy was going to be hurting for days. He probably needed morphine and sedatives to get him through it but there was no chance the Andersons would give it to him, so he was going to have to suffer and Dean couldn't stand the idea of his baby brother suffering.

The even more annoying thing was that they were still staying in the motel room and hadn't even started looking. Dean's frustration was rising to dangerous levels and the only comfort he had was that Bobby had gone out to buy some speakers so they could listen to the recorded call out loud and possibly pick up some background noise, but other than that they were just sitting around and becoming more useless by the second. The urge to punch something was growing and growing for both John _and_ Dean and it was only a matter of time before one of them lost the plot.

John was currently leaning against the impala outside the motel room, he was hoping the fresh air would help calm him down but his emotions were still at war and he didn't know whether to scream, cry or stab everything in sight. He sincerely hoped that the latter wouldn't ever take control, but with everything that had happened, it was possible.

He also hoped that Dean would be able to control his emotions because when Dean freaked out things got bad. Very bad. And John knew that if he had to deal with a rabid Dean then finding Sam would be practically impossible and the entire family would be ripped apart.

His biggest hope, however, was that Sam wouldn't give up no matter where he was or what happened to him. The kid was strong, there was no doubt about that, but with what he was going through it wouldn't surprise John if he just submitted to the Andersons and let them have their way. Heck, he knew that he would probably do the same if it was him locked in the cellar of an abusive couple's home.

"Hold on Sammy, we will find you and you will survive this," John whispered into the darkness, his voice embellished with sadness, "Just you wait."

. . .

Tears slowly dripped down Sam's face as he cried silently into his mattress, his entire body felt like it was on fire and there was nothing he could do. He could barely move without feeling like every nerve ending in his body was being torn apart.

He needed to be strong, he knew that, but it was hard since the last three days had consisted of him being taken away from his family, starved, beaten and tortured to point where he was practically paralysed with agony. And the Anderson's had barely even started. The idea of having to go through even worse made him want to throw up but he knew he shouldn't because he hadn't eaten in days and he needed to conserve energy.

Reluctantly, he wiped his eyes and look down at himself. The entire top half of his body was coated in blood and there were entire chunks on his chest where his skin had been completely ripped off, leaving sensitive, red marks that stung like hell. The marks of the whip were long and oozed with blood and Sam knew that some of them needed stitches or they were going to continue bleeding and he would lose a lot of blood. They were also open to infection which was not good either as he would never survive that, not with the way he was malnourished and dehydrated. Unfortunately, the dirtiness of the cellar meant that avoiding infection was going to be extremely difficult.

Sam couldn't even imagine what his back looked like - he would crane his neck to see but the movement would be much too painful and Sam didn't know how much more pain his body was willing to take.

Trying to block out everything around him, Sam closed his eyes and retreated into his mind but was only hurt more when pictures of Dean appeared in front of him. He missed his brother desperately and knew that if Dean was the one lying on the dirty mattress then he would be so much braver and much more willing to suck it up than Sam was. But still, Sam would give anything to make sure that Dean never did have to do so and even though he wanted Dean to cuddle him and tell him everything would be ok he hoped that if Dean ever did come it would only be to rescue him and not to join him in his makeshift cell.

"I love you brother," he said into his hands as he dropped his head, "Just stay out of danger and I'll be ok."

. . .

Bobby stared down at the speakers in his passenger seat and prayed that they would be able to give them a lead to where the Youngest Winchester could be. Sam was the light in a lot of people's lives and losing him would mean losing everyone; John, Dean, Bobby, Rufus and many other hunters that had fallen in love with little Sammy the moment they laid eyes on him as a child. Truth be told, Bobby didn't know if the hunting community would ever be the same without him because the Winchester's would undoubtedly give it up as it would have resulted in them losing their youngest, and the Winchesters were some of the best hunters there were. Too bad they seemed to have the worst luck.

Still on the drive back to the motel, Bobby began to fear what he might find there. He knew John and Dean were both slowly going crazy and leaving them on their own may not have been a good idea but they desperately needed the speakers and Bobby wasn't willing to let the Winchesters out in public until he was sure they could control their tempers. The last thing they needed was for someone to end up in the county jail overnight.

Truth be told, Bobby wasn't doing too good himself. Sam was like a son to him and hearing him in pain had sent a burning hot arrow straight through his heart. He wanted to shut himself out from the world and lose himself in a bottle but he had to be strong as he was the only one stopping John and Dean from completely losing their minds, if he resorted to alcohol then there would be serious consequences. Consequences he did not want to think about.

So he focused on the one thing he could: finding the Andersons. He researched them as best as he could and found out the model, make and number plate of the car they had been driving on the day they took Sam and, with a bit of luck, they would still have the same car, meaning Bobby could track down sightings of them and hopefully follow them straight to their hiding place.

But he knew he was going to need help; there was no way he could babysit two angry Winchesters and work non-stop at the same time. So, with one hand still on the wheel, he picked up his phone and speed dialled the number.

"Singer, what can I do for ya?" came Rufus's voice from the other end of the phone, "Any luck with Sam?"

"Unfortunately that's exactly what I called about," replied Bobby, "We're hopefully about to inquire a lead on finding him but there Winchester's are both being damned idjits and there's no way I'm going to be able to control them and do my research."

"I see," said Roofus, "Text me the coordinates and I'll be on my way within the hour."

"Thanks pal," said Bobby, hanging up the phone and typing in the necessary digits with a sigh of relief, at least things would get a little easier when he arrived.

 **Thank you so much for reading this, I really hope you enjoyed it. All reviews are appreciated and the next chapter will be out as soon as possible. Have an amazing day.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Note: You know the drill - swearing and violence**

Bobby hurried into the room with John following close behind, quickly they hooked up the phone to the speakers and gathered around them with Dean. Emotions were running high among the hunters and they know it would only worsen when they had to listen to Sammy's screams again but they knew they had no other choice.

Shakily, John played the call and sat down as the cold sound of Paige's voice echoed through the room. They listened with shattered hearts as the conversation between John and the Andersons was forced upon them.

They were approaching the dreaded torture when Bobby suddenly jumped up and fiddled frantically with the phone to try and rewind a few seconds.

"What is it Bobby?" said John urgently.

"Shut up ya idjit," Bobby snapped back, pressing the play button again and putting a finger to his lips. They all listened with a sense of urgency and Dean gasped when he realised that there was a slight rumbling in the background for a few seconds.

"What was that?" he asked, staring at Bobby with desperate eyes.

"A train," replied Bobby, "meaning that wherever the Andersons are they're either by a train track or a train station."

"How do we find out which?" asked John.

"We keep listening," said Bobby, "And if we hear the same rumbling again in a very short amount of time then it means it's a station because the train would have made a stop there."

"Ok," said John, sitting himself back down and receiving nods from the others before resuming the call.

Unfortunately, they did not hear the rumbling again.

"Sonuvabitch," cursed Dean, "This means that we're looking for a train track, it's not like there's millions of those or anything!"

"Calm down Dean!" said Bobby, reaching down towards his bag and pulling out a large map, "Wherever this track is it runs through a wood or a very rural area; the Andersons would never risk staying in a crowded place."

"So?!" questioned Dean, staring at Bobby in disgust, "We can't search every wood that has a train track, we'll never find Sammy!"

Bobby rolled his eyes before responding, "Dean this map shows absolutely everything within 10-hour car journey from here, I'm going to mark every single train track that could potentially be near to Sam. Then me, you, your dad and Rufus (when he gets here) are going to call up every single hunter we know and ask them whether they've seen the car or anything suspicious in any of the allocated places."

"But Bobby you said yourself that these areas are bound to be away from lots of people, why on Earth would anyone have seen anything there when they have no reason to be there?" asked John.

"Because these are hunters John!" retorted Bobby, desperately trying not to lose his temper. "Hunters will go anywhere if they think there's something dangerous, chances are someone will have seen something. Even if they don't know the exact location they'll at least be able to point us in the right direction."

"Ok," said Dean, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself down. He knew Bobby was right and that he was overreacting but he needed Sammy and wasn't thinking straight without him. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he sat at the table opposite Bobby and next to his dad so that they could pinpoint the necessary places on the map.

Twenty minutes later they were almost done when they heard a knock at the door. Hunter instincts kicking in, John and Dean both reached down to their guns whilst Bobby, applying logic to the situation as per usual, simply stood up and peered through the peephole to see exactly what he thought he'd see: Rufus' face.

"Hello Rufus," Bobby said, opening the door and watching as the hunter tossed his bag against the wall and turned to shake his hand, "Good to have you on board."

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be," Rufus said, "If Sam's in trouble then I'm helping whether you like it or not."

"Sounds good to me," said John, approaching Rufus and shaking his hand as Rufus took in the battered appearance of both the Winchesters. They looked like they'd been hit by a truck with their scruffy unwashed clothes, large under-eye circles and messy hair. "You two look like you haven't slept in weeks."

"Sure feels like it," said Dean, "Good to see you Rufus."

"You too Dean," he replied, before getting down to business with a determined facial expression. "Now tell me everything I need to know."

. . .

Sam groaned as the door to the cellar opened and he was temporarily blinded; he'd been in the dark for a long time and was not happy with the sudden change in lighting.

"Morning brat," said Michael cheerfully, striding over towards the boy with a glass of water held firmly in his hands, "We don't want you dying of thirst before we're finished having fun so drink up."

Feeling sick at the thought of trying to keep water down, Sam sat up on his mattress and turned away, pain suffocating him as his many wounds protested against the sudden change in position.

"Now we can't have that can we?" teased Michael as he put down the glass and crouched in front of Sam before pushing his back forcefully against the wall.

Sam cried out in agony as his whip marks collided with the cold surface and every one of his nerves endings suddenly seemed to burst into flames.

Laughing, Michael held the kid to the wall by pushing against Sam's chest with his knee and forcefully holding his head in place with a hand on the forehead.

"Now you drink," he said, picking up the water with his spare hand and pressing it against Sam's lips as he tried to struggle free but failed.

Sam started choking as the entire glass of water was suddenly tipped down his throat without warning. He tried to spit it out but the moment the glass was empty Michael put it down and forced both his hands over Sam's mouth with such strength that Sam had no choice but to swallow, otherwise he would have had no way of taking in oxygen. He couldn't breathe through his nose as his nostrils were still coated in blood from when Michael had kicked him in the face.

"Hello Sam," said a sadistic voice from the corner.

Still spluttering, Sam turned to see Paige stood at the other end of the room, a huge smile plastered on her face. Sam didn't know how long she'd been there but he could guess that she'd seen everything from the pleasure in her eyes.

Smugly, Michael stood up and pulled a phone out his pocket and started setting it up on a table so that it could record everything that was about to happen.

With a nod to her husband that signalled he could start recording, Paige crossed the room and crouched in front of Sam, the sound of her heels echoing through the house.

Never breaking eye contact with the teen, Paige reached down towards the glass and smashed it against the floor, laughing at the way Sam jumped and glared at her suddenly with fear in his eyes.

"Thing is Sam," she said, picking up a piece of the broken glass and holding it between her fingertips, "We know it was you that persuaded your dad to let us live all those years ago."

Sam's expression changed to confusion as she teased him. He wasn't quite sure where her words were leading him and began to really fear where the conversation was going.

"And I just wanted to say," Paige continued, pulling back his ripped t-shirt to reveal one of Sam's nastier wounds, "That you really should have killed us when you had the chance."

The young boy's eyes suddenly widened in sheer terror as she quickly reached up and pushed the broken glass forcefully into Sam's wound, causing him to scream in agony as his skin was ripped apart and Paige's hand was coated in blood.

Not wanting the moment to end, Michael quickly strode over and picked up one of the pieces of glass and rammed it slowly into the sole of Sam's bare foot.

"You should have known we'd be back," he added, as the teen screamed and protested against the torture, "But you didn't think and now you pay the price."

Reaching, once again, down towards the broken glass, Paige's hand was suddenly kicked away from her as Sam used the last of his strength to try and end the pain.

"Not again!" he shouted, his voice laced with agony, "I can't do that again!"

Both Andersons were caught off guard at the sudden outburst and didn't quite know how to react as they stared down at the struggling boy in the bed as he tossed and turned and shouted at desperately at them.

Anger suddenly taking hold, Michael growled and pulled a stun gun out of his pocket. Beckoning at Paige to move away, he grabbed Sam's face and forced him to look at his angry glare as he pressed the stun gun against Sam's side and activated it.

"DON'T YOU EVER TOUCH MY WIFE AGAIN YOU WORTHLESS, LITTLE SHIT!" He yelled, as the teen writhed under the gun, tears streaming down his face, "I WILL END YOU, YOU FUCKING BASTARD!"

Sam struggled as shock took hold, he tried to fight back but he couldn't move. He tried to scream but no sound came out. He tried to breathe but he found himself unable to take a breath. Agony forced itself inside of him and invaded every corner of his mind, manipulating what he could and couldn't do as Michael yelled and jammed the gun further into his hip.

Minutes passed like hours as Michael continued electrocuting and insulting the poor boy, never once showing mercy or any sign of stopping. Paige just watched with angry eyes as Sam struggled and trembled, his entire body jolting with pain.

After another 5 minutes passed before Sam started screaming and begging, all he wanted was for it to be over but the agony seemed endless. As the cries escaped, he looked up at Michael with his beautiful puppy dog eyes at one last attempt at mercy before his entire body went limp and he passed out, unable to stay awake any longer.

Silence briefly filled the room as both the Andersons looking tensely at each other; they hadn't expected the boy to start fighting back so soon. They clearly needed to be more alert to what he was doing and would have keep him in constant pain to make sure he knew who was in charge.

The sound of Paige's heels suddenly filled the room once more as she walked in front of the phone and stared down at the camera on the side of the screen.

"The brat got what he deserved," she said coldly before ending the video and sending it to John Winchester. He was going to go crazy when he saw what his happening to his precious son.

 **This isn't my finest work but I hope you like it anyway. All reviews are really appreciated (even the bad ones). Have an amazing day.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Note: The usual swearing and violence.**

"Ok, let's get started on these calls," said Bobby, looking down at the map and all the circled train tracks, "When you make a call make sure you tell us who you are calling so when we don't end up accidentally calling people twice."

"No problem," said Rufus, ripping out pieces of paper from the motel notebook and handing them out, "Write down any useful information and who the information came from."

Dean started to look through his contacts when he caught sight of his dad in the corner of his eye. John was staring down at his phone with terror written all over his face, he struggled to sit down on the nearby bed as his skin turned a deathly shade of white.

"Dad, what's wrong?" asked Dean, his voice causing the other hunters to look up from the map and their phones to stare at John.

"It's the Anderson's," came the shaky reply, "They've sent me a video."

Dean's heart suddenly dropped as he found himself unable to breathe. They couldn't have hurt Sam again; it was too soon after the last torture! Another round with hardly any time in between could break him!

Tears started flowing down his face as he thought about his brother lying motionless on the floor of a cold, dark cellar in a pool of his own blood. He knew that that probably hadn't happened but it was where things seemed to be going, he needed to find his brother and he needed to find him now. He tried to stand but he found that he was paralysed with fear; the tears were still flowing and threatened to get worse until Dean felt Rufus' strong arms wrap themselves around him.

"John," said Bobby seriously, as he watched the terrified expressions on both the Winchesters' faces, "Give me the phone, you don't have to watch it. Rufus and I will."

"No!" cried John, looking up at Bobby with tears in his eyes, "This is my boy and I need to know what happens to him."

"Ok, if you're sure," replied Bobby, slowing walking towards John and gently prying the phone from his fingertips, "I'll hook this up to the TV so we can all see."

John nodded and turned around to see Dean crying into Rufus' shoulder as the older hunter whispered words of comfort into his ear, John couldn't even imagine how horrible his older son felt as it had always been him that had had the special bond with Sam.

Concern coursed through Bobby's veins as he set up the video, the family was already beginning to break and they hadn't even watched the torture yet. Bobby knew he probably shouldn't let the Winchesters watch the video but they had every right to and it would crush Dean if he didn't know what was really happening to his brother.

Nervous, they all seated themselves in front of the TV and waited for the video to start. They were met with the site of Sam sat choking on a mattress, Michael was stood next to the camera and Paige was currently out of sight. But the worst part of all was the scars that covered every inch of Sam's upper half and the pain that was sketched all over his face. It was clear he'd been lashed at least 100 times and that the wounds showed no signs of getting better.

"Oh Sammy," Dean said to himself as he stared sadly at his injured brother.

All four hunters suddenly drew in breath as Paige appeared from the side of the screen, looking excited for what was about to happen.

"I cannot wait to get my hands on that bitch," John said, feeling the need to punch something as he seethed at her smugness.

They all listened as she teased Sam and fiddled with the glass between her fingertips, they all knew this wasn't going to end well and they could only pray that the damage to Sam would only be temporary.

Emotions suddenly flared as they watched one last expression of fear pass over Sam's face before it was replaced by agony as Paige forced a piece of broken glass inside of him.

"NO!" John yelled, jumping up and roaring at the TV as Dean froze in place, watching Michael approach from the side and pick up his own piece of glass.

"DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE!" screamed the angry father as both Bobby and Rufus wrestled him back onto the bed, Sam's screams ringing out through the room once more.

Dean wanted to help Rufus and Bobby but he couldn't take his eyes off of his screaming brother, he couldn't even imagine how horrible it would be to have a piece of glass rammed inside your foot and it made him sick to think that Sammy now knew exactly what that felt like. He hadn't expected it to be so hard seeing Sammy in pain but it felt like his heart was shattering in his chest over and over again.

John, however, was seeing red. His mind was focused on vengeance and nothing else. The Andersons were going to pay for even daring to lay a finger on the last gift Mary ever gave him. If she was here now she'd break, there was no doubt about that, she was such a caring mother that the thought of her sons being in pain had always been hard for her. John could only hope that Sam could hold up long enough for him to be found.

And then it happened: Sam lost it. It all seemed to happen in slow motion as Sam kicked the glass out of Paige's hand and screamed that he couldn't do it again. This was not good.

The four men stared at the TV like it was going to explode. They didn't know what the Anderson's reaction would be but one thing was for sure: Sam was going to suffer.

Dean sobbed out loud as he watched Michael pull a stun gun out of his pocket, rage evident in his every move.

The four hunters all froze in horror as they watched Michael jab the stun gun into Sam's side. Their eyes widened in terror as the teen began to squirm and cry whilst Michael roared at him at a volume that even John could not reach.

Bobby began to tremble as he watched Sam writhe in pain, his heart was beating at an unhealthy rate and he couldn't ever remember being as scared as he was in that moment. Sam was clearly starting to fall apart and it was only provoking the Andersons more, at this rate the kid would be dead in a week.

The torture went on for at least five minutes before Sam passed out and angry concern filled the room. They watched Paige walk up to the camera and say that Sam got what he deserved before turning off the camera and sending the TV into darkness.

Silence hit everyone like a truck as the four men sat there and wandered how they had let this happen. Emotions were already running high and things were only going to get worse as the days progressed. Who knew what was going to happen?!

There was only one thing that they were all certain about: they had to find Sam and they had to find him soon.

. . .

Sam woke up feeling like nothing would ever be right with the world; he was suffering physically and emotionally and didn't see any way for him to recover. He was going to be trapped there forever and there was nothing he could do about it.

Pain encompassed him as he moved into the foetal position with a whimper, he hoped that this would help keep him warm but he also felt like he no longer deserved to be warm. He'd managed to get himself kidnapped and hadn't even been able to escape. The Andersons were right: his father was never going to come for him. He was a stain on the name of the Winchester family and deserved everything he was getting.

Sam did hope, however, that Dean still loved him because if he didn't then Sam would no longer have a reason to live and his entire existence would be a joke. Well even more of a joke than it already was.

"Oh Dean, please don't hate me," whispered Sam, as he felt the tears fall down his face, "I know I deserve it but please don't hate me."

. . .

Michael stared sternly out of the window of his bedroom as Paige watched reality TV on the floor below him.

He'd come upstairs to be alone and because he didn't want to admit to Paige that he was starting to question what they were doing; the puppy dog look Michael had received from Sam earlier had changed something in him: it reminded him that Sam was just an innocent boy.

However, he did still want a sacrifice and a way for the Winchesters to suffer, but he didn't know if it was the youngest Winchester that deserved it.

Michael usually never cared about whether people were innocent or not; he had killed two of his children and never once regretted it. But the only thing he'd gained from it was a prison sentence… the demons hadn't even batted an eyelid at them and the Winchesters had tracked them down easily.

That was how the hatred for the Winchesters had started, but the problem was that the youngest Winchester was the only reason Paige and Michael were still alive and now they were punishing him for it. It just didn't seem right to Michael.

But then he reminded himself that bringing down one of the most famous hunting families would undoubtedly result in happiness amongst the demons and that was all Michael wanted in life; if it meant that he had to go against his morals then so be it.

Feeling a new kind of confidence, Michael turned away from the window and started making his way downstairs so he could cuddle up with his wife and tell her how much he loved her and admired what she was doing.

 **Hope you enjoyed this new chapter.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Note: I know Garth is not actually the same age as Sam but for this story he is. Meaning this chapter features 16-year-old Garth and a small backstory on how he met Bobby and got into hunting.**

Garth lay exhausted on his bed; he had just finished his daily hunter training and was ready to bed down with a bottle of coke and a movie but he knew he still had to do his research. After being helped by Bobby Singer when a vampire attacked him, Garth had dug into all things creepy and set himself the goal to become an amazing hunter. He was still learning the ropes but he was a lot fitter than he used to be and was excelling in the research side of things, he knew he was nowhere near good enough to even think about starting a case but he was proud of himself and that counted for something. His dad was curious as to why Garth spent so much time out the house but no longer seemed to have any friends but Garth just told him he'd joined a sports team and saw them there. That also explained why Garth took a sudden interest in a healthier diet.

Sighing, Garth leaned over his bed and reached out to grab his laptop and notebook form underneath it. But he was cut short by the sound of his phone ringing.

"Sonuvabitch!" he cursed as he clumsily tried to sit himself back up but slipped and ended up sprawled on the floor in a pile of dirty clothes.

"Garth, you alright son?" came the call from downstairs. "What was that noise?"

"Nothing mum!" he shouted down, scrambling up to answer the call, "I just fell off the bed."

Finally able to reach the damn phone, Garth grabbed it and smiled to himself when he saw Bobby Singer's name in front of him. Bobby called every now and again to see how things were going and to give him a tip or two, it was nice to talk to the hunter and Garth enjoyed their chats.

"Hey Bobby," he said cheerily, bringing the phone to his ear.

"Hello Garth," said Bobby from the other end of the line, "do you remember I called you a few days ago about the missing Winchester boy?"

"Oh yeah," replied Garth sympathetically, remembering how crushed Bobby had sounded when he'd told him about Sam's kidnapping, "Have you found him yet?"

"No but I was hoping you might be able to help," Bobby said, causing Garth to wince at the utter devastation in his voice.

"Of course, what do you need?" Garth said, immediately seating himself in front of his laptop; prepared to do anything Bobby needed him to do.

"You have a massive forest about 30 miles from your house and I happen to know that a train station runs directly through it. This means that it could be potentially be where young Sam is being held. I know it most likely isn't and this is a big favour ask but I was wandering if you could possibly hack into the security cameras in your local area and see if a certain car has passed through. I'll text you everything you need to know about the car and the time and location it was probably present." Bobby explained formally, desperately trying not to leave out any important details.

"Sure Bobby, no problem," Garth replied. He happened to have come across some information about the Andersons during his research and shivered at the thought of a boy the same age as him going through the hell that they had most likely planned for him, "I'll get on it now and call the moment I find anything."

"Garth you are a life saver, I owe you one," said Bobby with a hint of relief in his voice, "Thank you so much."

"Don't mention it," said Garth, "You saved my life first."

"That is true," Bobby replied, "Now I gotta go, I have to make some more calls and see what else I can dig up."

"Ok," said Garth, holding the phone to his ear with his shoulders as he typed frantically on his laptop, "Speak soon."

Still typing, Garth tried to gently drop the phone on his bed by leaning slightly to the left and releasing it from the firm grip between his shoulder and his head. But the phone missed and landed sharply on the wooden floor, sending a loud bang ringing throughout the house.

"Garth?!"

"I'm fine mom!" he shouted back, "Just dropped something is all!"

. . .

Paige sat up slowly in bed and peered at the clock: it was just before midnight. She'd been pretending to sleep for the last hour so that she could be certain Michael was in deep slumber and wouldn't wake up anytime soon. She knew he was having doubts about their plan and could potentially give up if she didn't get him back. He was telling himself that their plan was ok but he knew deep down that they weren't doing the right thing and his emotions were at war because of it. Paige had always been able to read her husband like a book as he was never good at hiding his true feelings, especially now that they were being pushed to the limit.

Gingerly, Paige pulled back the covers and swung her legs off the bed, shivering when her feet connected with the cold floor; the cabin they were staying at wasn't exactly five star, meaning the heating only worked when it wanted to, which led to some very chilly nights for the Andersons and even chillier nights for Sam down in the cellar.

Thinking about the teen, Paige tiptoed across the room and carefully twisted the door knob before pulling the door open a crack. She knew that Michael's doubts had started when he saw Sam's cute little puppy dog eyes and she had to make sure he never saw anything like that again. If Michael was exposed to more of the boy's innocence, then he would break and everything would be ruined.

Knowing that he door would creak if she opened it anymore, Paige slipped through the small crack and made her way nimbly down the stairs.

Stopping in the kitchen, Paige quietly opened a cupboard and pulled out a small, clean glass from the middle shelf and carried it over to the sink. Letting the water run, Paige held the glass underneath the tap and waited for it to fill. She didn't want Sam dying of dehydration before the sacrifice took place; he'd only had one glass of water in the past few days and she wasn't entirely sure that he'd kept it all down.

Satisfied with the amount of water in the glass, Paige opened the secret bookcase door and shivered at how cold it was; Sam was probably freezing his ass off. Paige laughed at the thought of this as she made her descent down the stone staircase and stopped in front of a large heavy, door. Making sure she put on her best bitchface and straightened her posture to give off an aura of confidence, Paige opened the door and stepped into the room where the teen was whimpering in his bed, it was obvious he was in the middle of a nightmare and would probably jump if woken up too suddenly. Typical.

Sighing, Paige put the glass down on the floor beside her and closed the door, cutting off any routes of escape the boy could use if he somehow broke free of his shackles. She didn't know how she could wake him without him making a lot of noise; if she pulled him firmly out of his nightmare then he would undoubtedly scream and wake Michael, who would then find Paige's side of the bed empty. She was probably just going to have to hold a hand over his mouth and wait until the lack of oxygen woke him up. She had no desire to go anywhere near the brat's mouth but desperate times called for desperate measures… "Oh well," she thought, "Here goes nothing."

And with that she crossed the room and crouched down next to the dirty mattress before forcefully placing her left hand over Sam's lips.

He reacted instantly; his entire body jolted underneath her and his eyes widened to an alarming size, clearly startled at the sudden drop in air. He struggled to break free but Paige used her right hand to place a perfectly manicured finger in front of her lips and tell him to shush.

Not wanting to disobey, Sam stilled and was very surprised to find Paige kneeled in front of him wearing nothing but her nightie. He didn't know what time it was but he now knew that it must be pretty late and whatever she was here for couldn't be good as she was sneaking around behind her husband's back, clearly not wanting to be blamed for whatever was about to happen.

As Paige watched many emotions pass over the boy's face, she tried to figure out how it would be best to play this. If she told Sam that he was weakening Michael then he could use it to his advantage, even when he was being tortured. However, if she didn't stress the situation to him enough then he could easily forget about her words, especially since he was very weak from hunger. She made a mental note to try and force some food into his system in the morning.

"Ok Sam," she began with a lick of her lips, "I want you to listen and I want you to listen well."

Sam nodded and stared up at her, suddenly feeling very small as she crouched over him on the mattress. He tried not to show his fear but he was trembling uncontrollably and his pulse had shot up meaning his breaths were short and laboured. Paige noticed all of this and knew she could use it to her advantage; she wasn't going to hurt him tonight but the threat of it would be enough to keep him on his toes.

"That stupid, innocent look you gave Michael will not be tolerated," she stated, glaring down at him with sharp, evil eyes, "I know you only did it to try and weaken him and if I see it again then I will have no choice but to take matters into my own hands."

"I-I didn't do it for that, I just needed it to st-, I couldn't c-control," he stuttered, panic driving his every word as Paige pierced him with her face. Sam couldn't help but feel deeply sorry for the poor children that were raised by the Anderson; Paige must have been terrifying to have as a mother.

"I don't want to hear it!" Paige snapped quietly but still somehow putting enough force into the words so that Sam would have still heard them from miles away, "No more puppy dog eyes or I will take a red hot poker and use it gouge both of them out!"

Sam visibly recoiled. Sheer terror radiated off his face. He knew Paige was crazy enough to do it and was petrified at the thought of it actually happening. He couldn't even imagine how painful the procedure would be and how much his dad would hate him if he was blind.

"I'm sorry," he cried, "I'm so sorry, it won't happen again."

"Good," Paige replied, standing up and towering above the cowering teen, "I've left you a glass of water by the door, I want it drunk by morning."

And with that she turned on her heel and waltzed out the door, delighted at the reaction Sam had given her. Now she wouldn't have to worry about Michael taking pity on him as all Sam was going to be doing was screaming and Michael could easily handle that.

"Well Paige," she whispered to herself as she made her way to the bedroom and slipped gratefully between the warm sheets, "I think you did a pretty good job today."

. . .

Garth groggily rubbed his eyes and pushed the laptop onto the bed with a grunt, it was five am and he'd found nothing. He knew Bobby wouldn't be angry but he was still disappointed with the unsatisfactory results, it would have been good to know that he was involved in saving the youngest Winchester, especially as the four hunters trying to find him seemed to be getting desperate.

But there was nothing more he could do; he'd checked everything twice and was now exhausted beyond belief. There was no way he was going to be able to get up for school in two hours.

Pulling off his jeans and throwing them on the floor, Garth reached out to turn off his bedside light when his laptop beeped. He groaned miserably as he realised he would have to check what it was before he got to shut his heavy eyelids.

Garth slowly pulled the laptop back onto his lap and checked to see why it had beeped, he found a small notification bubble in the corner and his heart leaped when he read it: a new piece of footage had been found, but this particular piece of footage had been deleted by someone outside of security. Someone had hacked into the cameras just like Garth did and deleted something. But they clearly hadn't done it right as Garth's hacking skills had eventually managed to pick it up, even if it did take a few hours.

"Now, now, now," he said gleefully to himself, "What do we have here?"

Clicking on the bubble, Garth opened the file and gasped out loud when he was faced with a picture of the exact car Bobby had described to him. Happiness buzzed through his as a huge grin spread on his face and he began scrambling around under his blanket to try and find his phone. He had to call Bobby.

Finding it, Garth immediately dialled the number and put his hand over his mouth to try and stop the laugh that was threatening to make an appearance, he may have been ecstatic but he didn't want to wake his folks.

"Garth? It's five in the morning, what is it?" said an obviously stressed voice through the phone.

"You'll never guess what Bobby," said Garth with a smile, "I've found it, I've found the car."

 **I really hope you enjoyed this chapter and that you didn't find it weird that I decided to bring Garth into the story. I know he doesn't really fit but he's one of my favourite characters and I wanted to include him. Good luck to everyone who is going back to school soon or has just gone back to school.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Note: swearing, violence and (TRIGGER WARNING) thoughts of suicide**

Sam lay shaking on the mattress as he tried to fight off the panic attack that was threatening to take hold of him and drag him kicking and screaming into insanity. Pain rushed through him and he had to bite down on his lip to stop him from crying out; it was the middle of the night and if anything woke the Andersons he knew he'd regret it. Images of his dad flashed in his mind and Sam knew that if John ever saw him like this then he'd shun Sam for his weakness and tell him to suck it up like Winchesters do. If Sam somehow survived the Andersons, he knew he'd be lucky not to be stripped of his Winchester name and kicked out the family. His entire life was ruined and he didn't see a point to it anymore, he wished the Andersons would just take a knife and stick it through his chest so he could finally be at peace.

But the Andersons wouldn't do that yet… they preferred to see him suffer and Sam seemed to be doing a lot of that. He'd been starved, punched, kicked, whipped, slapped, electrocuted and verbally abused and he didn't know how much more he could take. It was only a matter of time before he completely broke down and locked himself inside a corner of his mind where no one would ever find him or have any chance of ever rescuing him. Then his dad would find him and stick him in a mental institute before running off and never looking back. He'd be so ashamed of his son that he'd just tell other hunters that Sam had died in an unfortunate accident instead of explaining to them that Sam gone insane after managing to get himself kidnapped and tortured. The truth of it all had Sam wandering if there was any way he could off himself and end it all before the Andersons mercifully did it for him or before his dad ran away and left him.

Looking around the room, Sam saw nothing except the glass of water that Paige had left for him. He knew he should drink it or things would get even worse than they were now, but the water was quite a distance away and he knew that the journey to it would be a long and painful one.

"Isn't this just great?" he thought to himself sarcastically, before pushing himself into a sitting position with a groan. All of his wounds immediately protested causing an agonising back spasm that quickly passed. Well, the spasm passed – the horrible stinging sensation that came with it was still very much present and didn't show any sign of going away.

Biting down on his bottom lip, Sam reached out and gripped the corner of the mattress firmly and used it to pull himself off the mattress and onto the ground. It was painful but manageable and meant that he was one step closer to the water. "Ok," he thought to himself with a deep breath, "So far, so good."

Steadying himself with a five second break, Sam planted his hands on the floor in front of him and pulled himself slowly towards them. The movement was agonising and he hissed in pain as the burn in his side that had been put there by the stun gun scraped along the floor and practically sizzled with the pain it was causing Sam. This was going to take a while.

. . .

Bobby sped down the highway at an alarming speed with Rufus frantically navigating in the passenger seat and the impala hot on their tail. They'd been driving for a good few hours and still had a long way to go but they were over half way there now and the thought of finding Sam gave them a fresh feeling of determination that couldn't be shaken off. Bobby had never been so happy to have young Garth as a friend and was glad that the kid was becoming a hunter; despite the scrawniness he was going to be a valuable addition to the hunting community and would hopefully put an end to the miserable lives of a lot of sons of bitches.

Even if he decided to quit he would still have been involved in the downfall of the Andersons and that was an achievement in itself; there was no one left who wanted them to live. Every single hunter Bobby knew was outraged at the situation they were in and were prepared to kill the Andersons a thousand times to avenge poor Sam. A few of these hunters had once admired John for letting Sammy persuade him to not kill them, but now the Andersons were number one on every hunter's hitlist and they were all prepared to give the youngest Winchester the support he would need to recover from whatever they put him through.

"There's a lot of people who love you Sammy," Bobby thought to himself, scared that Sam probably thought the opposite, "Don't give up on us yet, kiddo."

Dean sat in the passenger seat of the impala and looked out the window for any indication of where they were. No one had any real idea what was going on except Bobby; he'd just stood up and announced that the car had been located and all of a sudden everyone grabbed their stuff and flew out the door without a second thought. Now they were on the road and hopefully on their way to finding Sammy in the woods that was a few miles away from the house that Bobby's friend lived in. Even if he wasn't in those specific woods, they at least knew which direction the Andersons had gone in and where it would be logical to look for them next. It was also going to take a while to search the entire wood and there were undoubtedly going to be countless abandoned buildings that they would have to rummage through, but they'd start at the train track and work their way from there.

Dean was feeling a lot better now that they'd left the motel room and were actually doing something to help his little brother. Making call after call and learning nothing was tearing Dean apart and he was ready to steal the car and go on a rampage through the country, interrogating everyone and anyone until they told him something useful. Luckily it hadn't come to that and he was now sat next to his dad in the impala doing something that might actually be worth their time. He still felt like he was missing his right arm and his need to see Sammy was growing greater by the second but at least he now had it under control and was unlikely to do something that he would regret. But there was still only one thing he knew for certain: he was going to find Sammy even if it was the last thing he ever did.

. . .

Sam choked down the water and clamped his hand over his mouth to stop him from gagging it back up, it felt horrible in his throat and made him feel nauseous as it entered his stomach but at least the Andersons no longer had a reason to punish him further than they already were. He knew he was still going to be tortured but it would no longer be worsened by the fact that he hadn't drunk anything and hopefully he would be able to make it to the sacrifice without too much more pain so his death would be peaceful.

It felt weird to Sam to be thinking about death so casually; he always knew he was going to die early as that was what happened to hunters but he never expected that it would happen when he was only 16 and that it would be a relief instead of a tragedy. Of course he'd always hoped that he would give up hunting one day and begin a normal life with a wife and children but he knew deep down that that was never going to happen so it was probably for the best that he was dying so soon.

Sam's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of the door being swung open and Michael stared at him in surprise; he'd expected Sam to be in a bad state but he had not expected Sam to be lying next to the door with an empty glass held shakily in his hand. It was clear his trip from the mattress to the glass had been a painful one as there was a crimson trail of blood stretching across the room, indicating that Sam had managed to reopen some of his wounds and they had bled all over the floor.

"Looks like you're losing your mind boy," Michael said, walking into the room and placing a chair in the middle of the floor, Paige followed close behind carrying two pairs of handcuffs and a bundle of rope. Sam's pulse began to quicken as he realised that he was now in for another round of fun.

Turning to look at Sam, Paige noted the way he glared at her but tried to back away at the same time. It was clear he was scared and was dreading what was about to happen but he was no longer using his poppy dog eyes so the couple didn't feel an ounce of sympathy for him. In fact, they were more excited than anything.

Paige placed the rope and handcuffs on the floor and went to lock the door as Michael approached Sam and leant down to unlock the shackle around his wrist. Sam immediately thought about escaping but he knew there was no way he could battle two trained fighters, a locked door, and an empty wood in the condition he was in so he knew there was no point in fighting back. He was just going to have to give in to whatever the Andersons had planned for him.

Done with the shackle, Michael threw the chain down on the floor and looked sternly up at Sam.

"Get your lazy ass up and into that chair!"

Panicking, Sam shuffled around on the floor and attempted to get his legs into a position that would allow him to stand, despite every injury telling him not stop. He tried to pull himself into a kneeling position but cried out when his burn brushed against the wall.

"For fuck's sake, are you always this useless?!" Michael, reaching down and pulling him up by the shoulder so hard that he pulled the joint out of the socket, causing the teen to scream. "Oh shut up you weak little shit."

Dragging him by his injured shoulder, Michael ignored Sam's pained protests and forced him into the chair, enjoying how the kid winced when his injured back collided with the chair. Paige appeared next to Sam and immediately started using the rope to tie his right hand to the arm on the chair as Michael grabbed the second piece of rope and did the same with his left hand. They then used the handcuffs to attach his ankles to the chair legs, he was officially trapped once again.

Wanting to get started as soon as possible, Paige pulled out her phone and instantly started videoing Sam just as Michael grabbed his shoulder wedged it harshly back into the joint with no warning whatsoever, smiling when the teen jolted upright and a strangled cry escaped his lips.

"We're only just get started you good-for-nothing son of a bitch," Michael growled as the Sam's face tensed in anger.

"Do not insult my mother ever again," he spat, glaring at Michael with unexpected rage.

Michael just grinned as he stared down at Sam's face, wandering how to make him pay for that comment, he noticed that Sam's black eye and facial bruises were fading and that his split lip was almost healed. Michael would have to fix that; he thought the kid looked nice when his face was decorated with pretty colours.

Pulling back his arm, Michael tensed as his firm fist connected directly with Sam's nose as a sickening crack rang out the room; his nose was most definitely broken and there was blood seeping out of it that had already reached the collar of his shirt. Sam himself was breathing heavily through his mouth, agony radiating though his hunched body posture.

Having enjoyed the first punch, Michael drew back his arm a second time and a solid fist landed firmly on Sam's right eye causing him to whimper as tears started streaming down his cheeks. He'd barely even taken a breath when a massive sting erupted in his lips and his split lip reopened meaning there were now two blood waterfalls dripping down his chin and onto his chest. He suddenly forgot all about just scraping by quietly as rage bubbled up inside him; he was not just going to sit there and listen to the insults and take the pain like a little bitch. He was going to fight back.

"You guys are so brave and strong when your opponent is defenceless and unable to fight back," he growled, staring up at Michael like he wanted to throttle him.

"I don't care about the fight Sammy," Michael immediately snarled back, keeping his cool because he had the perfect torture device stashed in his pocket and couldn't wait to use it, "I just want to hear you scream."

"You don't get to call me Sammy!" Sam retorted, feeling a slight pang in his chest upon hearing the nickname that his brother used for him.

"Oh I'm so sorry… Sammy!" Michael shouted before whipping a blowtorch out of his pocket and slamming it into Sam's chest, causing an open flame to connect with whipped and bloodied skin.

Sam's screams were worse than they had ever been, sobs escaped him as he yelled in agony and cried openly at the same time. He screamed long and loud as his entire body squirmed against the ropes and handcuffs and he clawed desperately against the arms on the chair.

His vision started fading and one last thought passed through his mind as agony forced him into the darkness: he wanted to die and he wanted to die now.

 **This chapter is pretty messed up but I hope you like it anyway. Have a great day and be happy.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Note: swearing and violence**

Bobby continued on down the road, considering whether it would be a good idea for them to stop; they'd been driving all night and no one had eaten in hours. If they were going to get Sam back, they needed to be prepared and that wouldn't happen if they didn't stop to rest and eat.

Taking this into consideration and wandering how the Winchesters were really holding up, Bobby glanced in the rear view mirror and watched John hand Dean his phone; John had obviously received a text or something and didn't want to take his eyes off the road so was relying on his oldest son to check it for him. But Dean did not react well to this when he looked at the phone and called out something Bobby couldn't hear, his face had paled significantly and his dad looked like he was about to fall into the dark abyss of panic.

Looking to his left, Bobby saw that Rufus had also noticed the commotion in the car behind them and was whipping out his phone to see what was going on. It only took seconds for Dean to answer and put him on speaker as Rufus did the same so that Bobby could hear.

"What is it, boy?" Rufus asked.

"The Andersons," Dean replied shakily but sternly, "They've sent us another video." Rufus gasped and cursed under his breath as Bobby's heart skipped a beat; if the Andersons had sent Sam another video it meant that they had tortured him some more

"Well whatever you do, do not watch it now. We don't want you and your dad ending up in a car crash," Rufus responded.

"We're not stupid, Rufus!" huffed John, anger heating up inside of him and lighting a fire in his brain.

"I know you're not, I'm just trying to be careful," Rufus said, not taking any offence to what John had said; he knew John was suffering and was undoubtedly going to flip out at whatever was on the video.

"I'm going to stop and get us a couple of rooms at their nearest motel," Bobby said, hoping the Winchesters wouldn't protest too much to the break in their rescue mission, "We'll watch the video and rest up a little before eating and hitting the road again." He heard two loud sighs come through the phone but was relieved when neither of the men attempted to argue, they were probably both unbelievably exhausted and secretly relieved that Bobby had suggested stopping.

"Ok Bobby," John said with a slightly grumpy tone that was most likely fake, "Lead the way."

. . .

Sam winced as the blowtorch was finally pulled off of his neck; the Andersons had spent the last two hours sticking it onto his skin and watching as it burned and blistered his flesh. He wasn't entirely sure how much of the two hours he'd been conscious for, as he had passed out several times, but it was enough and he was extremely ready for it to be over.

He also knew his dad and Dean were going to be super angry as he'd watched Paige video the first five minutes of the torture and that could only mean one thing; they were going to watch him scream and thrash as he was beaten, burnt and forced to sit through his shoulder being brutally forced into its socket. They were going to see how weak he was and how easy it had been to hurt him and it would only strengthen their decision to leave him behind. At least he had defended Mary; that might earn him some points in his dad's good book.

Suddenly brought back to reality by a slap to the face, Sam looked up and saw Paige and Michael towering over him with sadistic smiles plastered on their faces. Michael still held onto the blowtorch and Sam wanted to throw up just looking at it, so far the thing had torched his chest, neck, legs, feet and stomach and he wasn't prepared to let it hurt him anywhere else, even though he'd probably have no control over when the Andersons would finally decide to stop.

"Should we finish now, Sammy?" Michael asked playfully, abusing the nickname that Sam had reacted so badly to, "Or shall we keep going?"

" _Oh I'd fucking love to keep going, why don't you burn me for another two hours because I'm having_ _so much fun_?" Sam thought angrily, not saying it out loud because he knew the Andersons would probably jump at his offer.

"We should finish," he whispered, breathing heavily out of his mouth as his chest rose and fell dramatically. He was trying to breathe in a lot of air as he'd missed out on it when he was being burned so badly he was too busy screaming to even think about breathing.

"But Sam, we're enjoying this so much," Paige teased, an evil smile dancing in her eyes, "You'd hate to end the party now, right?" Sam wanted nothing more than to end the 'party' but he knew he was skating on thin ice and would have to be careful with his words if he didn't want them to hurt him anymore.

"It's up to you," Sam said quietly, his voice cracking slightly as he hoped that he had said the right thing.

"Well aren't you feeling generous today, boy?" Michael asked, leaning down so that he was face to face with Sam, "Let's see if we can break a few bones now, shall we?" Sam whimpered and a look of sheer terror crossed his face as Michael grinned and crouched down.

"Let's start here," he said, stroking the skin on Sam's right ankle, causing Sam to wince as Michael brushed over a small part of his burns, "Paige, please do the honours."

Sam yanked his head up to see Paige standing over him, brandishing a large, wooden baseball bat, a look of pure evil radiating off her face.

"Buckle up boy," she teased before raising the bat above her head and bringing down onto Sam's ankle with shocking force. Sam tensed up and screamed as a sickening crack echoed around the room and pain exploded in his right leg. His vision clouded in agony and he suddenly lost control of his movements as his entire body trembled; he was on the verge of a breakdown and it was only a matter of time before he begged. Desperately, he looked up with tears streaming down his face and utter devastation in his eyes, he resembled a sad puppy and it was enough to freeze Michael his tracks. Sam hadn't even realised he'd been staring directly at Michael as his vision was still fuzzy from the pain, but Paige didn't care as rage coursed its way through her veins and uncontrollable anger took hold of her.

"YOU LITTLE BRAT!" she screamed, running at him and tackling the chair to the floor, "I TOLD YOU TO STOP, YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT!" She didn't care that Sam's head had collided with the floor and that he was now completely dazed; all she cared about was keeping her husband on her side and the kid was ruining everything!

Anger still manipulating her every move, Paige landed firmly on Sam's chest and enjoyed the crunch that rang out when she did so; it was clear she'd just broken at least one of Sam's ribs but the gargled cry he let out wasn't enough to stop her as she started clawing viciously at Sam's face, digging her nails into his skin and drawing endless blood.

"HOW DARE YOU USE THOSE PATHETIC LITTLE PUPPY EYES OF YOURS, YOU'RE SO STUPID YOUR FATHER'S PROBABLY HAPPY TO BE RID OF YOU!" she screamed, still scratching wildly at Sam, attempting to rid him of his eyes forever. But her blind rage stopped her from doing that as she had completely dropped her professional and intelligent and was just shouting and clawing like a wild animal, unaware and uncaring of the horrific cries coming from the child below her.

Michael just watched as his wife completely lost it, he knew there was no way to stop her when she was so angry and that it was probably best for her to just let it out. He felt bad for Sam but not bad enough to intervene; he would let Paige have her moment and then prepare for the sacrifice so that they could be rid of him by tomorrow. He was still unsure about killing the teen but he knew Paige was desperate to and he would always do what Paige wanted no matter who got hurt. "That's how married life works, right?" he thought to himself, wincing slightly as Sam let out a loud yelp, "At least this should be over by tomorrow."

. . .

Dean clenched his fists as the video loaded, he'd been on edge since he found out that the Andersons were having some more fun with his brother and he knew he wouldn't be able to control his reaction this time. His entire world was crumbling around him and he didn't know how much more he could take.

"You guys ready?" Bobby asked sincerely, his finger resting slightly on the play button as he prepared himself for whatever he was about to witness. He was barely holding it together but he knew he had to be strong for the others; Dean was already trembling and John hadn't said a word since they'd arrived at the motel but his facial expression said enough: he looked like he could destroy a city with a single frown. Rufus was also looking distraught but he seemed more alert than everyone else and Bobby knew that if either of the Winchesters lost the plot then he would be able to rely on Rufus for help.

Deciding the silence meant 'yes', Bobby pressed play and they all jumped as Sam suddenly screamed. Michael was clutching the teen's shoulder and judging by the loud 'pop' that all the hunters had heard, it was clear that Sam had dislocated his shoulder at some point and had just had it fixed. Well, 'fixed' probably wasn't the best word for it… more like forced back into place.

They all listened as Michael taunted Sam and flattened his self-esteem like a boot flattens an ant. John could feel his temper flaring but it was replaced by a touch of pride when he heard Sam defend the only woman John had ever loved.

"You tell him kiddo," John said, sending a small wave of relief through Bobby and Rufus as they exchanged glances, at least John was more focused on his son's spirit on not on Michael's insults.

But the happiness quickly faded when they watched Michael deliver three sharp punches to Sam's face, the kid had experienced a lot worse but hearing his small whimpers and the crack that had come from his nose didn't reassure anyone, not to mention the blood that was now flowing freely down his chin and onto his chest.

Dean took slow breaths as he tried to bring down his pulse, he was an inch away from completely losing it and he didn't want to do something he would regret, especially if it delayed how long it would take them to get to his baby brother. Dean just tried to tell himself that no matter how much he suffered, Sam was suffering more and that would not be tolerated. Ever. Michael and Paige were going to regret everything they did.

He continued watching and his mood improved a little when he heard Sam taunt Michael back, the kid was clearly not going to just sit back and take it.

"Go Sam!" Rufus said, also glad that Sam hadn't given up or was at least not showing the Andersons that he had given up; if they thought he was broken they'd kill him on the spot.

Dean was most proud, however, when Sam defended his nickname, it meant that Sam still believed in Dean and was willing to defend him even if it landed him in trouble. The love between the brothers was still fierce and Dean had never been so glad about something in his life; it meant that if Sam lost all hope he would still be able to cling to the fact that he had Dean. At least that was what Dean thought.

Despite the slight raise in hope, the four men were all suddenly thrown back into the pit of despair as they watched Michael pull out a blowtorch and hold it against Sam's already broken skin.

"NO!" John yelled, falling off the bed and shouting more insults from the floor, "THAT'S MY SON YOU DICKHEAD!"

Dean remained frozen as he watched his brother writhe and tremble under the flame, his screams laced with agony as he was dragged into the state of unconsciousness. His face was the definition of pain. Dean felt tears streamed down his face as he tried to call out to his brother.

"Sammy…." He whispered weakly, "Please don't give up."

 **I really hope you enjoy this chapter and that you have an amazing day. I go back to school tomorrow so chapters may not come as frequently because I will have to do homework** **L**


	11. Chapter 11

The whole room was plunged into silence as the four hunters processed what they had just witnessed. The sight of their youngest friend sitting helpless as agony ripped him apart was all too much for Dean as he finally lost it and fell off the bed, landing haphazardly on his knees as the world around him went quiet.

Heart shattering into a million pieces, Dean could only watch as Bobby stumbled over to him in what seemed like slow motion. He shook his shoulders and called out his name with a voice poisoned with panic but nothing worked as Bobby attempted to pull Dean away from the metaphorical cliff he knew he was standing next to.

"DEAN!" he screamed, "DEAN LISTEN TO ME!" But Dean just continued staring into space, knowing he would never be able to imagine just how much Sam had suffered and that it was going to be practically impossible to pull him back to a normal life. No matter what happened, Sam was going to be plagued with nightmares and flashbacks forever and his mental scars would probably never heal; it was going to be hard enough helping him with the physical ones!

"Oh Sammy," Dean whispered, finally retreating from his mind and falling forward into Bobby's arms, heart breaking sobs escaping him as John winced at the sound of his oldest crying. It was a rare occurrence that always seemed to stay with him as it reminded him of Dean's innocence and how corrupted his childhood had been since Mary died. If only Mary could see them now, she would know just what to do and just what to say to set Dean's mind at ease and put them back on track so that they could find Sam.

"I know I said we should rest but I don't think that's a good idea anymore," said Bobby softly, still cradling Dean's shaking form in his arms, "We need to get to Sam and we need to get to him now. He may be fighting back but for all we know it's just an act he's putting on for the Andersons. Something tells me he's about to give up and I'd hate it if we weren't there to stop it."

"You're right," snivelled Dean, gently prying himself away from Bobby and wiping his eyes, "Sammy needs us."

Rufus nodded and reached down to grab a couple of bags so that they could move quickly, he also didn't want the other men to see that he had tears in his eyes. Sam's cries had cut him deep and he couldn't even bear to think about how badly it had effected the other Winchesters, let alone poor Sam. Needless to say, he was willing to help them out in anyway and that included hiding his emotions and staying strong so that they felt like they had a strong hunter to rely on, not a crying old man who was minutes away from an emotional meltdown.

"Let's go," he said, reaching out a hand towards John so that he could help him off the bed and into the car. The man looked like he had the entire world on his shoulders and every emotion was plain on his face: panic, sadness, fear and rage. Rufus knew it was horrible to feel all those things at once and the fact that John was letting it all show proved that he was really struggling; usually he buried all his feelings deep in his mind and never let them see the light of day as he was sure they were a sign of weakness. But now they were all he had to hold onto and it scared him to death.

Following behind Rufus and John, Bobby pulled Dean to his feet and led him to his truck; it was clear that John was not nearly ready enough to drive so Rufus had helped him into the passenger seat of his impala and seated himself behind the wheel to drive the rest of the way. Surprisingly Dean did not protest when he realised he would be riding shotgun in Bobby's truck; he would have much preferred to sit in the impala but he knew that they had to get to Sam quick and he didn't want to leave Bobby alone.

"He better be in this woods," Dean said sternly, "Because I don't want my brother spending another damned night with those asshats."

"Couldn't have said it better myself," Bobby replied, starting up his truck and reversing out of the motel car park without checking out, "The sooner we find Sam, the better things will be."

. . .

Paige gasped as Michael held a cold flannel against her sore hands and attempted to wash off the blood that had stained them so badly. She could still remember the feel of Sam's skin ripping as she clawed into him and verbally assaulted him with every cut. She knew her husband had witnessed the outburst was fearing his reaction as she knew he may give up on the plan. But he seemed to be dealing with things quite well as he was cleaning up her hands without complaint and seemed to be content with plastering up her broken nails that had been snapped by her scratches.

"You really ruined that kid's face," he said with a nervous laugh as he turned his back on Paige and placed the bloodied flannel into the sink, "He's definitely going to have some scars to remember you by." Paige's heart stuttered as she listened to his words, she couldn't tell how he was feeling by his voice and couldn't read him when his back was turned, she hoped that he was fine with it but knew that she was going to have to tread carefully with her words so she didn't scare him off.

"I'm sorry," she said, not really meaning it, "I just couldn't stand the pathetic look he had on his face."

"I know what you mean," Michael replied with a sigh, turning around once more and seating himself in front of Paige, "That look almost convinced me to call it all off and I- I kind of still want to."

"No Michael, please no," Paige whispered, looking up at him and bringing up her hand to stroke his cheek, "His family ruined our lives… they took everything from us and forced us into prison like we were common criminals or something! We deserved so much better! We did what we did for the greater good; it was to prove to the demons that we were worthy so that they could rule the Earth. And when we get these stupid Winchesters out the way they'll be able to do just that! We'll be heroes!"

Michael listened to his wife's words with a heavy heart, he knew she was right and he knew that he had to keep going; it was just so hard to watch an innocent boy suffering because of him.

"Ok," Michael replied, "We should kill him tomorrow, that way we won't have to look at him anymore. We'll call the other Winchesters and tell them where we are, then we'll kill Sam right in front of them and bring them to their knees."

"Sounds perfect baby," Paige replied, sitting up and planting a kiss on her husband's cheek, "That boy and his puppy dog look will be dead before you know it."

 **Sorry that this chapter is so short, I just had a hard time writing it and thought it would be better to publish what I had instead of forcing myself to write the rest. Hopefully my next chapter will be a lot longer to make up for it. Enjoy!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Note: Suicidal thoughts**

Bobby, Rufus, John and Dean exited their vehicles and grabbed their supplies out the trunk in record time. They were on a mission and not even the end of the world was going to stop them; if the world did, in fact, end then you could be damn sure that they would have Sam by their side so that they could help him through every second of it. They were going to find him and they were going to find him quick.

"Right, the train track is about a kilometre west from here, if we find that then we will be pretty near to Sam. Unfortunately, the train track is pretty long so we may have to follow it for a while until we find a nearby house that could be the home of the Andersons," Bobby explained, placing the bullets inside of his shotgun and tucking it into his trousers, "Any Questions?"

Dean and John shook their heads, not wanting to waste another second and afraid that if they spoke their voices would crack and tears would fall down their faces. According to them, the time for emotions had passed and they had to get straight down to business to fix their lives once and for all. That didn't mean it didn't hurt like hell though; they were both suffering and their thoughts were drilling holes in their brains, trying to convince them that Sam would never be ok.

"I think we're good Bobby," said Rufus, answering for the three of them, "Let's get going."

Nodding, Bobby quickly pulled out his compass and waited a few seconds for it to point them in the right direction. When he was satisfied with what he saw, he placed it back into his pocket and signalled to where they would be going as the three men before him turned around and observed the small clearing in the forest that would hopefully lead them to the train track.

"I'll take the front," Bobby instructed, "Rufus you take the rear, Winchesters in the middle."

The four hunters got themselves into position, fingers resting lightly on the triggers of their guns as Bobby slowly pulled back a branch and stepped into the forest, disappearing into the trees. Dean followed and held back the branch for his dad as John walked through, muttering a slight thanks as Rufus appeared behind him.

Seeing that everyone had made it in ok, Bobby started to walk in the direction they'd be going, hoping that everyone would be able to stay on track and keep up with him easily. It was still pretty dark amongst the trees, despite it still being morning and there were a lot of obstacles in their path that could be easily tripped over or bumped into. They were also very jumpy and the slightest noise had the ability to send one of them into red alert, which would lead to unnecessary shooting and a lot of panic. They really couldn't afford any of this, but Bobby predicted that something would probably happen that would slow them down and that was just how it was going to have to be. He didn't blame any of the others and wouldn't mind if something happened to one of them, he knew they were struggling and that they had every reason to be; watching a loved one in pain is a truly horrible thing, especially when you can do nothing to stop it.

But, despite everything, Bobby never let himself get too emotional about what was happening, he knew he had to be strong for the two eldest Winchesters as someone was going to have to look after them when they lost it and Bobby would be damned if it wasn't him. The Winchesters were his family and he wouldn't have it any other way, not for the entire world.

He also knew that, no matter how much the four of them suffered, Sam had it worse and he was going to need serious care if he wanted to come out of this alive. Heck, he might not even want to be alive anymore, after hearing the verbal abuse that the Andersons were showering him with, Bobby wouldn't be surprised if the kid had become suicidal.

"Hold on Sam," Bobby whispered into the breeze, "We're coming for you."

. . .

"Are you 100% sure that we have everything we need?" Michael asked, reading the list of items they would need to perform a demon summoning spell.

"Babe, I've checked it three times and I've even got back up on everything." Paige replied, laying out everything on the table and gazing down at it with hungry eyes, "I'm so glad that we're actually going to have a demon here to witness the sacrifice, there's no way they'll be able to ignore this."

"Good," Michael said, putting the list down next to the items, "Because I don't want this kid's death to go to waste; he's a Winchester."

"Well a pretty pathetic one," Paige replied with a snort, remembering the way Sam had recoiled when she had threatened to gouge out his eyes with hot pokers.

"I'm serious Paige!" Michael snapped, "This kid is a huge enemy of demons and killing him will mean a lot to them, we can't screw this up!"

"I know," Paige replied, looking up at her husband, "I'm just so excited! We're finally going to meet a real life demon!"

"And it's about time too," Michael said with a smile, feeling a little better now that Paige had reassured him she wouldn't mess it up.

"So, how are we going to do this?" Paige asked, beckoning to all the items on the kitchen table.

"We call the Winchesters and tell them to come alone and unarmed, if they don't we kill Sam. Then when they're here we tie them down and summon the demon. Everyone will watch as we stick the blade through Sam's heart, the Winchesters will then start going crazy and we'll let the demon decide what they want to do with them. We'll be heroes!" Michael explained, knowing full well that it was very unlikely that John and Dean would not do as instructed but including it in the plan anyway.

"Shouldn't we summon the demon before the Winchesters get here?" Paige asked, also seeing the fatal flaw in the plan, "That way they can use their telekinetic powers to hold them down."

"Good idea," Michael said with a nod, "When shall we do this?"

"Tomorrow morning should be best," Paige said, "That'll give us enough time to set all of this up and give Sam enough time to get his strength back so he'll survive us moving him to the living room and tying him down. We don't want the kid dying on us before we get to kill him."

"Ok, sounds good," Michael said, pulling Paige into a hug, "I'm so proud of you!"

"And I'm proud of you," Paige replied, planting a kiss on his cheek, "I'm so glad we got to spend all this time together."

"Me too," Michael replied, both arms still wrapped firmly around his wife, "I just hope this all goes to plan."

"It will," Paige said with a smile, "I guarantee it."

. . .

Taking a deep breath, Rufus followed John through the forest and carefully traced his footsteps to make sure he wouldn't trip over anything that could slow them down. They'd been following the track for about an hour and hadn't found a thing, John and Dean were beginning to get impatient and Rufus didn't want to do anything that could aggravate them further. He just hoped they'd be able to keep their cool long enough for them to find Sam.

Still lost in his thoughts, Rufus didn't notice that John had stopped and ended up walking straight into the back of him, earning a curse from both of the hunters.

"What the hell, Rufus?" John snapped, a slight smile forming on his lips as he turned around and saw Rufus rubbing his nose.

"Sorry John," Rufus said sheepishly, "Didn't see you there."

"Idjit," Bobby said under his breath, taking his bag off his back and opening it up, "Everyone grab a quick drink and a snack, we'll start walking again in five minutes."

"Bobby, are you sure we have time for a break?" Dean asked, watching in surprise as everyone did as they were told, "We need to get to Sammy."

"I know we do Dean," Bobby replied, sitting himself down on a dry patch on the ground, "But we're no use to him if we have no strength because we've been hiking without food or water."

"Ugh fine," huffed Dean, lowering himself to the ground and pulling a bottle of water out of his pack, "But if we do take longer than 5 minutes, I'll kick your asses."

"Sounds good to me," Bobby replied, as John and Rufus nodded with sincere looks on their faces, they were also desperate to get to Sam but understood the need to look after themselves so were willing to listen to Bobby as he long as kept them all on track. What they were doing was hard but were prepared to walk through fire and flame if it guaranteed the safety of the youngest Winchester.

"Ok, let's go," Bobby said after what felt like two hours, "Keep your eyes peeled and your guns loaded." Not wanting to disobey, everyone grabbed their stuff and fell into pursuit as Bobby led them around a tree onto another forest path and made his way down with everyone hot on his tail.

They kept at a steady pace for about another half an hour before Dean came to an abrupt stop at what looked like a house in the distance.

"Seriously Dean?!" John shouted in surprise, as he almost tripped over trying not to make the mistake Rufus had made earlier. He could hear the annoyed hunter cursing behind him as he suddenly found himself stuck behind John's muscular frame.

"What the hell is going on?" Bobby yelled, as he turned around to find Dean staring into the trees with John and Rufus both looking angry and unbalanced behind him, "What did you idjits do now?"

"It was him!" John shouted, pointing at his son who was still entirely focused on something in the distance.

"Shut up John!" Bobby said sternly, "What have you seen Dean?" He knew that Dean wouldn't have stopped for no reason and had probably found a clue that would be useful in their hunt.

"Look through the trees there," Dean explained, pointing in the right direction, "Does that look like a house to you?"

All three men snapped to alert and swerved their eyes to where Dean was pointing, determined to see what he had seen and be one step closer to completing their mission. John saw it first and immediately realised that his son was right; they were going to have to check out that house. Placing his backpack on the floor and checking the bullets in his gun, John watched as Dean did the same and the realisation dawned on Bobby's and Rufus' faces. They immediately started preparing and were ready to storm the house within two minutes.

"Ok," said Rufus, turning off the safety switch on his gun with determination, "What's the plan of action?"

"You call it Bobby," said John as everyone turned to him, "I can barely think straight right now."

"We enter quietly with weapons at the ready," instructed Bobby, "We do our best to find Sam, if we run into to the Andersons we shoot first and ask questions later."

"Sounds fine to me," Dean said, staring at the housed with such force he was surprised it didn't explode right there and then, "I'm going to find my little brother and show the Andersons why you never mess with a Winchester."

"As great as that sounds Dean, please be prepared for the fact that this might just be an abandoned house," Bobby warned, he didn't want Dean to be devastated by the fact that his little brother was not, in fact, nearby.

"I know Bobby, I just want to see him," Dean replied with a sad tone, it was hard that Sam could be so near to him but so far way and he had no idea which.

"I know you do," said Bobby, "Just focus on the plan and things will be ok. When we go in I want you and your dad to check if there's a cellar because if there is that is where Sam is most likely to be. Rufus and I will check the rest of the house."

"Ok," said John, starting the journey towards the house, "Let's do this."

. . .

Sam had heard the Andersons talking about the sacrifice and he didn't know how to feel. Half of him was happy that he would only have to wait a day for it to all be over and that the Andersons were no longer going to torture him as they wanted him to 'get his strength back'. However, the other half of him was ready to throw up, he no longer wanted to give the Anderson's the satisfaction of killing him and the idea of a demon being there to witness it was downright humiliating. If only he could just finish it himself and end it all without pleasing the Andersons; he was in immense pain and was convinced that his entire family hated him, so what did he have to live for anyway?

"You should just kill yourself," said the voice inside his head, "You're going to die tomorrow anyway so there's no point in trying to fight."

Sam's body began to tremble as he realised that the voice was right, it was time for him to take charge and make one last decision.

He was going to end his life.

Glancing around the room, Sam's eyes rested on the empty glass that still stood by the door. Neither of the Andersons had bothered to put it away and Sam had never been so glad of that. It also happened to be right next to where he was lying so it was obvious that fate was supporting what he was about to do.

Taking a deep breath, Sam picked up the glass and smashed it against the floor, horrible memories of the broken glass torture flashing in front of him. Not caring about the glass that had landed in his hand, Sam picked up one of the pieces and shakily bought it to his wrist.

"I'm sorry Dad, I'm sorry Dean," he whispered softly, before piercing his skin with the sharp edge and bringing it down to his vein. Blood poured down his hand but he ignored it as he cut deeper and deeper and deeper.

 **I'm so sorry**


	13. Chapter 13

**Thank you so much to everyone who has left a review on this story, I appreciate it so much and you have no idea how much it means to me when people like my writing xx you're all so amazing**

 **Note: Swearing and blood**

Dean slowly lowered himself down in front of the door of the old house and quietly pulled a lock pick out of his pocket as his dad, Bobby and Rufus all formed a protective circle around him, willing to shoot anything that came into sight.

It took him a minute or so but Dean managed to expertly pick the lock without making a single sound to alert the Andersons of his presence. Signalling to the others, he slipped the lock pick back in his pocket and raised his gun, silently praying that he was using it to free his brother and not to storm an empty house.

Not knowing whether the door would creak or not, Dean pushed it open a crack and relief flooded him as it remained silent; the slightest noise could ruin everything right now and Dean didn't want to be the one to screw it all up. Although he was pretty surprised that he hadn't already as his heart was pounding so hard he suspected that everyone within ten miles could hear it. "It's ok," he told him, "Everything is going to be ok."

Plucking up his courage once more, Dean pushed the door open enough for him to see into the house. He was met with the sight of a big open-plan room that contained a small tattered sofa, a mini kitchenette, a dining room table and a couple of old bookcases. There was a staircase in the corner and an open bathroom door at the far end but no signs of a cellar. There also happened to be a small, dark woman spread out on the sofa with her nose buried in a magazine, Dean knew immediately that this was Paige and merely looking at her sent his temper to a place that he urgently tried to pull it away from, Paige hadn't seen them yet and Dean wanted to keep it that way.

Knowing that they wouldn't be able to creep in whilst Paige was in the room, Dean cocked his gun, threw a determined look to the men behind him and charged into the room like a gladiator going into battle.

Paige jumped off the sofa in surprise as four angry men practically flew through the door and pointed their guns straight at her without a moment's hesitation. Taken aback by the sudden outburst, Paige quickly put up her hands to show she wasn't armed but planted a bitchy look on her face to show she would not back down easily. She recognised all four men and was slightly scared at the thought of facing them even if she wouldn't let it show. She could only hope that Michael (who was upstairs taking a nap) had heard the commotion and was already forming a plan to rescue her. If not, she was in deep shit.

"Hello boys," she said smoothly, not letting her voice betray her, "I wasn't expecting you to visit so soon."

"Where's my brother?!" Dean screamed, rage evident on his face as he gestured wildly with his gun. Paige smiled at his anger, knowing she would be able to use it to her advantage. She just had to find a way to piss off the other three.

"Oh, you mean Sam?" she questioned with fake innocence, "He's resting right now and I can't allow you to see him, otherwise he won't be ready in time for his next round of torture."

"Don't you try and psyche us out, lady," Bobby spat as he watched Dean tremble with anger, "Now I suggest you tell us where Sam is and what your husband is doing or we're gonna find out how effective these guns really are."

"You're not gonna shoot me," Paige laughed, "If you do you won't be able to find your precious little Sammy."

"Don't you call him that!" Dean yelled, taking a step towards her and violently jerking his gun towards her, "Now tell us where he is or I shoot!"

"If we could quit it with the empty threats then that would be great!" said Paige sarcastically, "I've heard enough of those from that little brat you like to call your family."

"HOW DARE YOU?" Dean bellowed, finally losing control as he quickly lowered his gun and shot Paige dead in the knee, taking delight in the way she fell to the floor with a scream of agony, "NOW TELL ME WHERE HE IS!"

"NEVER!" she hissed back, lying on the floor and cradling her leg with a look of distress on her face. Dean was about to retort when he heard another gun shot and another cry of pain.

"SAM!" he yelled involuntarily, worried that somehow the sudden sound of a body dropping was related to his baby brother. However, he was instantly relieved when he turned around to see Michael sprawled at the bottom of the staircase, blood pouring out his ankle as Rufus lowered his own gun.

"He was trying to sneak up on us," said the hunter angrily, "So I took him out."

"Good," said Bobby, "Now tie him and his wife down. John go check upstairs for Sam, Dean you look for potential doorways down here, I'll help Rufus."

Dean immediately threw down his gun and got to work, ignoring the protests he could hear coming from the Andersons as they struggled against Rufus' and Bobby's iron grips. He started by knocking on the walls and checking for hollow spots that could potentially be hiding something. He also tried calling his brother's name a couple of times but figured that if Sam could answer, he would have already. It scared Dean to think that he could be gagged or unconscious or worse, whatever was happening to him Dean had to stop it and give him the comfort he deserved before they lost him forever.

Dean was suddenly pulled out of his thoughts as he reached the wall next to the bookcase and could have sworn that it sounded like there was a room behind it. Heart leaping in faith, Dean sprinted in front of the book case and started frantically pulling books out of it and attempting to tug it away from the floor.

"Someone help me goddamnit!" he shouted as he threw the last book to the floor and started yanking on the shelves, hoping that it would reveal itself to be a secret door. John quickly appeared beside him and together they wrestled the bookcase away from the floor and let it slam to the floor as they fled to the small entrance to a dark corridor.

"We're coming for you Sammy!" Dean shouted as he sprinted through the entrance and practically fell down all the steps, almost colliding with the massive, stone door he found himself stood in front of, "Sonuvabitch! How the hell are we supposed to get through this?!" John stumbled down after Dean and planted a firm kick in the middle of the door but it barely even rattled and John was left cursing and clutching his toes.

"Damnit!" he shouted, trying not to look ridiculous as he hopped around on one foot, "We need to get through that door otherwise we'll never get to Sam!"

"I know Dad!" Dean retorted, staring at the door like he wanted to punch it before raising his voice, "BOBBY! ANY CHANCE THERE'S A KEY LYING AROUND UP THERE?"

"WE'LL LOOK AROUND!" Bobby shouted back as the floorboards above them started to creak with Bobby's and Rufus' rapid movements and heavy footsteps.

"Ok let's see if there's anything down here," John instructed, putting down his foot and feeling along the walls for a hook or a chain that the key could potentially be hanging from as Dean crouched down and searched the floor for boxes or trapdoors. The shout from upstairs didn't come until five minutes later.

"MICHAEL HAD A KEY IN HIS POCKET! I'M THROWING IT DOWN TO YOU NOW!" Rufus' voice grew louder and louder as he appeared at the top of the stairs and a big, heavy key suddenly came flying through the air, smacking Dean in the face.

"HEY!" he shouted, rubbing his nose as the keys clattered to the floor.

"WELL I DID TELL YOU I WAS THROWING THEM!" came the retort as Rufus walked off with a grin, "MAYBE YOU NEED TO WORK ON YOUR CATCHES!"

"SHUT UP OLD MAN!" Dean yelled back with a slight smile, he was glad that they could have a laugh but he was becoming increasingly more worried about why they'd heard nothing from Sam and what state they'd find him in.

John seemed to be feeling the same way as his hands were shaking when he picked up the key and handed it to Dean, not trusting himself enough to open the door himself as he knew he could freak out at the last second.

"Sam, we're coming in!" Dean said, knowing that his brother probably couldn't hear him but not wanting to scare him in case he was conscious and just couldn't speak for whatever reason.

Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself and put the key in the lock as John started to visibly tremble, a look of pure terror on his face. But he still nodded at Dean when he started to turn the key, a small click signalling that the door was now unlocked. Dean and John locked eyes for a second as they prepared themselves for what they were about to see, they gave each other strength and were now ready to do whatever it took to help one of the people who meant the most to both of them.

Turning back to the door, Dean swallowed the lump in his throat and pushed down in the handle that was keeping it closed before taking a step forward and entering the room with a heavy heart. He was not at all ready for what he saw.

A strangled cry immediately escaped him as his knees buckled and he slowly collapsed in fear, he was never going to be able to forget what was in front of him. His brother, his _baby_ brother was lying beaten, bruised and unconscious on a cellar floor surrounded by a pool of his own blood.

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter and that you have an awesome day**


	14. Chapter 14

**Note: Talk of suicide in this chapter and a lot of blood.**

John screamed as he heard his eldest crash to the floor and was forced to watch his shoulders slump in utter defeat, completely blocking his view of Sam and preventing him from offering any form of comfort to either of his children. He began to stumble past Dean and winced at the look of sheer terror plastered on his face, he could only imagine what Sam looked like to cause Dean to panic like he was.

"Hold on Dean, I'm going to help him!" John shouted, frantically pushing past Dean and crashing through the door. The pale, skinny, lifeless body before him was an image he was never going to forget. The blood alone was bad enough but the crippled limbs and ugly bruises sent him over the edge as he surged forward and violently threw up all over the floor, that body belonged to his son!

"SAM!" he screamed, crawling clumsily over the pile of sick towards him, tears streaming down his face as his jeans were immediately soaked in the thick, crimson liquid surrounding Sam. He haphazardly started to look for the wound that was releasing all the blood but it was hard because there were so many injuries. He could feel the bile rising in his throat again as he came across the crusty whip marks, the blistered burns and the broken ribs, it was unimaginable how much pain this could cause a person and the fact that that person was his son only made it a thousand times worse. He had to help his boy!

But he was suddenly frozen in place when his hand slid across the fresh cut on Sam's left wrist. His eyes immediately swivelled to the bloodied piece of broken glass resting in Sam's right palm. It took a few seconds for John to register what this meant before his whole world came crashing down around him and he broke down in a mess of tears and sobs at his dying son's side.

For all John know, Sam was already dead, he just couldn't muster up the strength to check; he knew he would never forgive himself if Sam died like this because his family hadn't gotten to him in time.

He could hear shouting behind him and he knew he should do something useful but he couldn't tear himself away from his child and he knew that there was no way for him to stop the sobs that were racking his body; everything had gone to shit and there was nothing he could do about it. He'd never felt so helpless in his entire life.

Watching his father collapse, Dean tried to will himself to move and offer help to the two people who he loved most in the world but he just couldn't bring himself to it. He, too, knew what the broken glass meant and it was killing him that Sam had been driven to the point of suicide. It was killing him even more that he was doing nothing to help despite desperately wanting to, he was just frozen on his knees as he watched the life inevitably fade from his baby brother.

. . .

Bobby and Rufus were upstairs tying the Andersons to chairs and discussing possible hunter clinics they could take Sam to when they heard crashes and shouts from the cellar. Both Andersons immediately smiled at the sounds and were each met with a fist to the jaw when Rufus and Bobby saw them. The hunters then looked at each other gravely and Rufus beckoned to the bookcase door with his head.

"You should go check they're alright," he said, "I'll gag these two and make sure they don't get away." Bobby could only nod as he felt his nerves skyrocket at the idea of witnessing what the Winchesters were, it was clear that things were far from ok and he didn't know if he could handle seeing Sam in a bad state again. He'd been keeping his emotions hidden for a long time now and going into that cellar could be the thing that made him explode. But he knew that John and Dean needed his help and that he was going to have to see Sam eventually, might as well get it over with.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Bobby put down the ropes that were in his hands and jogged over to the bookcase door. He then slipped through ran down the stairs towards the cellar but he was abruptly stopped by the soul crushing sounds of John's Winchester's sobs filling the house, it was hard usually to make John shed a tear and Bobby knew there was only one thing that could make him cry like that: the death of his children. Bobby immediately braced himself and prepared for the worst as he walked down the last few steps and almost bumped into a petrified Dean.

Bobby hesitantly shuffled past and instantly recoiled at the look of pure horror on Dean's face; he wanted nothing more than to help him right now but it broke his heart to think that Sam's needs were far more urgent and that Dean would probably refuse help until they were attended to.

Finally stepping into the room, Bobby gasped at the horrific scene before him; John was weeping over Sam's still body as blood coated them both and Sam showed no signs of life. It took all the strength Bobby had not to give up right there and then; he desperately wanted to release all the anger and sadness he was clinging onto but he knew that if Sam had any hope of survival it would instantly be shredded if Bobby couldn't hold it together. He had to remain calm for all their sakes.

Ripping off his over shirt, Bobby sprinted over to Sam and John and tried not to vomit at the sight of the mangled mess that he considered his son, he knew he would have to bandage up the wound. Fast.

"John, I know this is hard for you but I need you to tell me where Sam is bleeding from, he could die if I don't find out soon!" Bobby shouted, desperately hoping that Sam wasn't already dead (he couldn't waste time checking when Sam was bleeding so profusely).

"It's his wrist!" John screamed, throwing his head into his hands, "He's bleeding from his wrist!" Bobby felt his heart fall to his feet as he listened to what John was saying, he refused to believe it for a second before his eyes fell upon the long, deep cut residing on Sam's left wrist.

"Oh God," he whispered with a gulp, he knew that the injuries the Andersons had given Sam were terrible but he didn't expect the worst injury of all to be self-inflicted. If Sam did survive this, he would never be the same again.

Finding a much needed distraction, Bobby immediately began wrapping his over shirt around the cut to stop the bleeding whilst fighting off tears and choking back his lunch that was threatening to make a reappearance. He could hear that John was starting to calm down now that the situation was being dealt and offered a tiny bit of comfort to Bobby, at least he had one less thing to worry about.

Once he was finished with the wrapping, Bobby sat back and looked at John with a serious look on his face as John wiped the last of the tears off his face and listened intently to what Bobby was about to say.

"John, it's the moment of truth. I'm going to see if I can find a pulse." He stated carefully, "Are you gonna be ok?"

John snivelled and nodded sheepishly, "Just do what you can Bobby."

Leaning forward again, Bobby moved his hand slowly towards Sam's pale neck with nerves pulsing through him at an alarming rate. He could only hope that once he placed his hand down he would find something, _anything_ , that could indicate that the youngest Winchester was still alive.

 **Reviews are really appreciated so feel free to leave one. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and that you have an amazing day.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Thank you so much for the positive reviews from the last chapter, they meant so much to me!**

Finally resting his fingertips on Sam's neck, Bobby was flooded with relief when he found a pulse. It was weak and unstable… but it was there. He took a minute to steady himself and even smiled a little as he calmed down. For a second he was sure that Sam was dead and he couldn't even begin to describe how horrible that felt, but finding that pulse filled him with a new kind of hope and it convinced him that they were all going to be okay. Despite Sam still being hurt, for the first time in a few days he actually felt confident and happy and was not going to let anything get in his way.

"He's alive, John!" he shouted happily, "He's still with us!" And for a few seconds Bobby watched as happiness shone on John's face and relief eased his features before it was swiftly replaced by concern.

"We have to get him to a hospital now!" John panicked as Dean came tumbling over from where he had been kneeling, "What if we get arrested because they think we've been abusing him?!"

"It's ok, John," Bobby reassured him, having already thought of a solution, "Remember that hunt we went on a few years ago with Jim Murphy?"

"Yeah I remember," John replied quietly, vaguely picturing Jim's bleeding form as they carried him over to his car.

"Remember that clinic that he made us take him to? The one that Johnson opened after he retired from hunting a few years ago?" Bobby asked, hoping that John would remember where it was.

"Sonuvabitch that's only half an hour away from here!" John exclaimed as Bobby smiled at the fact that his friend had a good memory. But his mood once again turned to serious as he looked down at Sam and visually assessed his injuries.

"We just gotta hope he survives the ride there," he said solemnly, not wanting John and Dean to get their hopes up only to have them destroyed once more. He was glad they were happy but he didn't want that to make it worse for them later. Would they be able to help Sam if they were falling apart themselves?

As if he was answering Bobby's question, Dean, who had been watching quietly from beside his father, suddenly dived forward and carefully clutched Sam's shoulders. It broke his heart to think that this was the first form of contact they'd had in days.

"Sammy!" he shouted down at his unconscious baby brother, praying that his words weren't falling on deaf ears, "You have to survive this! You have to fight for us, ok brother? I'll go crazy without you so don't you dare give up!" He was hoping for some kind of reaction but was disappointed when Sam remained motionless, Dean couldn't blame his brother though; Sam had been through a lot, to say the least.

"It's gonna be ok, Dean," John said, rubbing circles on Dean's back to make him feel better, "He's gonna fight for us, he always has and he always will."

"I know, dad," Dean replied sadly, "I just wanted to make sure."

"I'm really sorry to have to put a stop to this but I think it would be best if we got moving, I don't like how weak Sam's pulse is and I don't want to keep him away from medical attention longer than necessary," Bobby interrupted cautiously, he knew that the Winchesters were in need of a family moment but he also knew that Sam was in need of professional help and unfortunately Bobby knew which one he had to prioritise, even though it killed him to have to end John and Dean's encouragement.

"Ok Bobby," Dean said, trying to fight off the tears as he thought of how moving Sam was probably going to cause him a lot of pain, "How are we going to do this?"

"Dean, you're going to pick the lock on the shackle that's on his uninjured wrist. I'm going to rewrap his injured wrist just to make sure it won't start bleeding again on the way to the clinic. John, you're going to prepare to move him, it's going to be hard but it has to be done. We'll take him out to the impala, Dean you get the medical supplies out the boot and then climb into the backseat where John will put Sam, then give John the medical kit and he'll climb into the passenger seat and I'll drive. On the way, assess Sam's injuries and decide what needs immediate attention then tell John what you need from the medical kit and he'll pass it to you and help as much as he can. Okay?" Bobby instructed, hoping that John and Dean were feeling up to his plan and that Rufus would be ok with staying and guarding the Andersons.

"Ok Bobby," John said as Dean nodded, "Let's do this."

Leaping into action, all three of the hunters got started on their tasks quickly and efficiently, glad that they could now use their mission to distract them horrible thoughts of their unconscious relative lying bloodied on the floor. Dean had the lock off in under a minute and Bobby was able to rewrap the wound in pretty much the same time. Allowing John to carefully slip his arms behind Sam's back and under his legs before lifting him swiftly off the floor, cringing as Sam winced even in unconsciousness.

"It's ok, Sam," he said strenuously, trying not to buck under the weight of his sixteen-year-old as Dean helped clear a path for them and Bobby raced ahead to probably warn Rufus of what was going on.

Grunting, he turned sideways and walked through the door as Dean cradled Sam's head to stop it from smacking into the door frame and then stepped aside to allow John up the stairs, it was obvious that he wanted to be behind them so that If John fell down the stairs he would be there to catch them. John tried to mumble a thanks but it came out as a moan as he realised he was going to have to focus all his attention on keeping his son off the ground. But it concerned John that he was even able to lift Sam in the first place, it meant that his son had lost a lot of weight and the fact that all of Sam's ribs were visible only confirmed this. It made John want to throw up looking at how three of the ribs were twisted and swollen and that the rest were decorated with bruises, burns and whip marks that were not going away anytime soon.

Suddenly brought out of his thought process by reaching the top of the stairs, John turned around to see Rufus staring at them with shock engrained onto his face; this was the first time he'd seen Sam in his awful state and damn it hurt like hell. He was desperate to go to the clinic with the others and help with Sam's recovery as much as possible but he knew they couldn't risk the Andersons being out of sight, especially as he was 99% certain that John would want to come back and get his revenge personally.

"Are you gonna be alright here on your own, Rufus?" Dean asked, following his dad out the cellar and moving towards the front door, "These two are tied up but you're outnumbered, if they escape then you might not be able to handle it."

"I really admire the faith you have in me, boy," Rufus replied, finally tearing his eyes away from Sam, "But don't worry about me, I've called Bill Harvelle and explained the situation, he'll be here in a few hours and we'll be able to move them down to the cellar."

"Ok good," Dean said, holding the front door open for his dad as Bobby appeared next to him and began to assist John in carrying Sam out the door, "I'll call you with any news."

"You better!" Rufus shouted back as the front door closed and the trio disappeared from sight, knowing full well that Dean would probably get distracted with his little brother's healing process and completely forget to pick up the phone. "Well," he said, look over to where Paige and Michael were tied to chairs in the corner of the room, "I guess it's just you and me for a little while."

. . .

Sam was confused. He knew he was unconscious and he knew he was dying but he didn't know why it felt so peaceful. He'd expected death to be a catastrophic event in which he'd be pulled kicking and screaming into the mouth of hell where he'd face a never ending world of pain and destruction. He'd killed a lot of monsters in his time and probably a few innocent people who had just happened to be victims to possession or deadly bites, so he figured that he had earnt him a one-way ticket downstairs years ago. But instead of chaos and horror, all he saw was darkness and instead of screams and cries, all he heard was silence. A situation like this would normally unsettle a person and eventually drive them mad but he felt… calm.

He didn't feel the need to call out to see if there was anyone else around him and he didn't see why he would want to escape, he just wanted to sit and let the darkness encircle him. There was no point in trying to escape anyway; he'd only return to the Andersons where he'd be sacrificed to some demon or something, much to the relief of his family that hated him.

The fact that his family hated him didn't upset Sam anymore either, for some reason he seemed to be unable to feel any sort of emotion and he was kind of enjoying it. It felt good to not have to worry or stress or cry about his life, if he could feel happiness this would probably be one of his best moments.

But everything was suddenly ruined when the sound of shouts forced themselves upon him. He cringed and clamped his arms over his ears in an attempt to block it out but it made absolutely no difference to the volume of the voices. He was just going to have to wait this out.

It took a couple of minutes, but the voices suddenly became louder and clearer, like the person saying them was suddenly in the room with him. Sam heard a crash and a scream and many sobs before he realised that he was listening to his family. Panic took hold as he listened to his dad break down in emotion like he never had before, tears audibly running down his face as he screamed at what was in front of him.

Sam was about to shout for answers when he heard another round of footsteps approach him and Bobby's gruff voice rang in his ears, asking where the wound was. And that was when Sam realised, they were standing over his body. They trying to reach him in a land they couldn't even begin to understand.

He was in the veil between life and death.

 **Enjoy!**


	16. Chapter 16

**I'm really sorry that this chapter took me so long to write, I had a pretty rough weekend and the homework is really piling up right now but I will try my best to get the next chapter up asap. I don't have an upload schedule because I'd never stick to it if I did but I will try to write fairly quickly for you guys as the feedback is getting so amazing (thanks for that, btw). I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

 **Note: mentions of suicide**

"Right Dean, tell me what we're dealing with!" John shouted frantically from the front seat as Bobby sped off down the road and medical supplies spilled everywhere. John, however, was not concerned about the state of the impala in that particular moment; he was more worried about the injured boy lying in the back seat.

Dean listened to his dad's question and continued to cradle his broken brother in his arms as he began assessing the injuries. He started from the head and worked his way down, "His face is completely covered in scratches and they are bleeding a lot, some of them are going to need stitches and will most likely scar. I think he may also have a concussion and his nose is definitely broken, his eyes are also both swollen and his lip is split. The rest of him is completely covered in burns and whip marks which are going to need tending to before he bleeds out. At least two of his ribs are broken which means a possible punctured lung and his shoulder hasn't healed properly so he'll probably have to wear a sling. His ankle is also broken and the cut in his foot looks infected, which probably explains the slight fever he's running. He's also lost a lot of weight and is really pale but I'm putting that down to blood loss and hunger. The cut in his wrist has stopped bleeding though."

"Ok Dean, do what you can!" John replied, practically throwing medical cleaning supplies at his sons so that Dean could get to work cleaning out Sam's wounds, "Let me know when you need bandages!" He wanted to cry when he listened to Dean listing all the injuries that Sam had acquired over the past few days but he knew that Sam's life possibly depended on his family holding it together and he'd be damned if he didn't do everything he could to keep his son alive. It just hurt to think that his last gift from Mary had almost been completely destroyed and there was nothing that he could do about it.

. . .

Sam screamed into the darkness.

He screamed and screamed and screamed.

He screamed until his throat burned and his eyes stung.

He demanded answers.

He screamed.

He demanded freedom.

He screamed.

He demanded release.

He screamed

He demanded _life_.

He stopped screaming.

He just wanted to see Dean; he could hear his deep voice and his stifled cries and he shouted out all of Sam's pain and it only made Sam want to see him more. Life without his brother had been hard and he was cursing himself for even _thinking_ that Dean would leave him, as if an amazing big brother like Dean would even think about abandoning an amazing little brother like Sammy. The pair complimented each other so well and they were always there for each other no matter what the circumstances. But Sam had been manipulated and changed by the Andersons, the words they said had done something to him and the pain (both physical and emotional) that accompanied them only made it worse. He just wanted to see Dean again so he could make it right.

However, Sam also knew that if he did somehow claw his way back to life then he was well and truly fucked and probably wouldn't survive the night. But it would all be worth it if he got to see his big brother one last time.

Tears began to flow down his face as he realised that he didn't know how to escape the dark mess that he had buried himself in and that he didn't have Dean to save him this time. The only escape route he could think of was to force his injuries to worsen, but then he wouldn't go towards the light and be welcomed back into the bliss of life; he'd be pulled to the floor and dragged into the mouth of hell where the little chance he had of seeing his family again would be destroyed. He couldn't let that happen. Not yet.

Having no idea what else he could do, Sam continued screaming.

. . .

Dean ignored the pain lines etched on Sam's face as he cleaned the dirt out of a particularly nasty wound on Sam's chest. He ignored the winces and trembles of pain he felt underneath him as he poured water onto one of the burns to wash off the dust that was coating it. He didn't want to think about the pain that his brother was in as he knew he would only make things worse for himself, so instead he focused on doing the one job that meant more to him than life itself: taking care of Sammy.

"It's gonna be ok little bro," he whispered into Sam's hair as he finished his job and buried himself in a firm hug with Sam, no longer caring about the tears flowing down his face or the sobs racking his body. He was about to stick himself in the middle of a major chick flick moment but he was willing to break every rule he had if it meant that Sam was ok, "It's always been my job to look after you Sammy and I ain't gonna stop now. I'm going to help you through this no matter what happens and I solemnly swear to stay away from the hunt and from alcohol until you're 100% better, mentally and physically. I don't know precisely what made you want to take your own life but I'm going to make sure you get better and then stop it happening ever again. You just gotta fight little bro, fight for me."

. . .

Sam sobbed violently into his hands as he listened to Dean. His big brother sounded so broken and it was destroying him to think that it was his fault. If only Sam had been able to hold on a little longer, that way they would have found him in a bad state but not on the verge of death and it would all have been ok. Sam wouldn't be stuck in the veil and Dean wouldn't be sobbing into his brother's hair. He'd fucked everything up and there was nothing he could do about it.

"I'm so sorry Dean!" He yelled, his voice cracking as another wave of sadness hit him like a brick and forced him to his knees, "I'm going to get out of here! I'm going to find you!" But Sam had trouble believing the words that he was shouting, he'd been stuck in the veil for over an hour now and literally nothing had changed. If he wanted out he was probably just going to have to wait and Sam no longer had the patience. He just wanted to see his brother, was that really too much to ask?

"I'm so sorry, Dean!" He screamed again, getting more fragile by the second, "I'M SO SORRY! I WON'T EVER LEAVE YOU AGAIN!" The words became more and more panicked and he eventually collapsed in on himself; he was emotionally and physically drained and didn't possess the strength to carry on. The only thing keeping him going was the sound of Dean's voice ringing in his ears as Dean answered his dad's questions and continued to comfort his little brother.

"I'M GOING TO GET TO YOU DEAN!" He screamed again, from where he was curled up in the foetal position on the ground before his vocal cords gave up on him and his voice faded to broken, hoarse whisper, "I'm going to survive this."

. . .

John slammed into the car door next to him for what felt like the hundredth time; Bobby was driving quickly and dangerously and John wasn't exactly focusing on his own safety as he rummaged through the car searching for the medical supplies that Dean asked for.

"Here you go, Dean!" he shouted, tossing back a flannel and a bottle of water so that Dean could try and cool Sam down before his fever got worse, "Anything else?"

"No, we're good for the moment, Dad," Dean replied, catching the supplies and immediately putting them to good use, "You should probably call Johnson and warn him of our arrival, Sammy's not looking too good and he's probably going to need to prep a few things."

"Good idea," John replied, fumbling in his pockets for his phone, "Bobby what's the number?"

Bobby expertly recounted the number from memory as he drove closer and closer to the clinic and watched as John brought the phone to his ear. He desperately hoped that Johnson wouldn't be too busy and that he would have an empty treatment room for Sam to be healed in as they couldn't afford to waste any more time. He allowed a small bit of relief wash through him when he heard John briefly explain the situation and promise to be at the clinic within ten minutes so that Johnson could begin treatment.

"He'll have a gurney waiting for us when we arrive," John announced, sticking his phone back into his pocket and visibly relaxing for a couple of seconds before springing back into action and attempting to put all the contents of he first aid kit back into the box from when he had spilled them all onto the floor earlier. "Sam showing any signs of change, Dean?"

"Afraid not, Dad. I've fixed him up as best as I can but he's still really weak and I don't think he has any chance of waking up soon. We don't know how long his wrist was bleeding for so I can't tell exactly how much blood was lost otherwise I would be able to do more," he said guiltily, his breathe slightly hitching when he subtly revealed that he was unsure of whether Sam was going to live or not.

"That's ok, son," John replied, knowing exactly what Dean meant and fighting off the panic that was bubbling inside of him, "Sammy's a fighter, he's going to survive this."

"I know he is, dad," Dean said sadly, running his fingers through Sam's hair and planting a slight kiss on his forehead, "I just want to see him awake again." It felt weird to Dean seeing Sammy lying so still; Sammy was usually always moving, even in sleep, and the fact that he was now unable to move meant that things were bad and weren't going to be fixed easily.

"I know what you mean," John said, he too was finding it strange not seeing Sam tossing and turning in his sleep but he knew they were going to arrive at the clinic any minute now and hopefully his son would be welcomed into the arms of safety and all of his demons would be far far away and unable to touch him ever again.

 **I know this chapter was a bit all over the place but I wanted to try and get in a lot of detail on Sam** ** _and_** **Dean's perspective so I hope you enjoy it anyway. Have a great morning/afternoon/evening/night.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Note: A couple of swear words in this chapter**

Johnson sprinted outside his clinic, he could have sworn he'd just heard the sound of a car roaring into the driveway and knew that no ordinary car was capable of making that much noise. So he'd beckoned to his orderlies and dashed shakily outside to meet up with the Winchesters. He'd been on edge ever since the phone call with John had ended and he was trying not to show it but he'd heard a lot about the two Winchester boys over the years and hated the thought of one of them being hurt. But he sternly told himself that he would be of no help to them if he was nervous and jumpy so he pushed the bad thoughts out of his mind and switched his brain to medical mode before running outside to the sight of an impala stopping in front of him. The two orderlies quickly appeared behind Johnson and began to ready the gurney so that Sam could safely lie on it.

But their eyes were led elsewhere as John swiftly exited the car and made his way to the backseat, Bobby also got out the car but instead chose to approach Johnson and silently shake his hand, a grave look plastered on his face. Johnson was about to offer words of reassurance when he was interrupted by the sound of a car door opening and everyone turned to look as John reached down and pulled a limp child out of the car. Johnson's gasp rang out as both the orderlies recoiled in shock, they'd expected it to be bad but they hadn't expected this. Sam looked like he could have been dead for years and they never would have been able to tell the difference. He was barely recognisable as John's son. Heck, if it wasn't for the laboured hitches in the boy's chest, Johnson would have been entirely convinced that Sam had died.

"He needs your help, doc," John said, desperately trying to ignore the shocked look of devastation on the doctor's face as he knew it would only break him further, "We can't lose him." Johnson was instantly brought out of his trance by the sound of pure desperation in the man's voice and he took a deep breath before leaping into action and barking orders at anyone who would listen to make sure that Sam was safely placed onto the gurney and wheeled into a treatment room as soon as possible.

John's mood quickly improved a little as he watched Johnson's physical demeanour change, meaning that he had just transformed himself into a full-on doctor and would stop at nothing to save Sam. John quickly did as he was told and placed his son carefully but swiftly onto the gurney and they all broke into run into the clinic, the sound of the gurney wheels echoing through the hallways as they made their way to the room where Sam's treatment would start.

The moment they were in the room, Johnson started setting up equipment and shouted at the orderlies to transfer Sam onto the bed and fetch a few things that he would need. Once he was sure they were out the room, he turned to the family and started making a demand in a soft but stern voice.

"I know this is hard for you," he began, "But I need you to tell me about all of his injuries, I'm going to need to know exactly what happened to him if I have any chance of saving him."

"He was beaten, whipped, tasered and burnt," Bobby answered, not wanting to put either of the Winchesters through the trauma of having to recount Sam's injuries again. "We're pretty sure he also has a head injury, a broken nose, a broken ankle and several broken ribs. There's a cut in his foot that looks infected and he's running a fever. We don't think he's eaten in ages either. And…" he suddenly stopped, unable to talk about Sam's most life-threatening injury. He tried to continue but sadness overwhelmed him and he found himself choking back a sob. He was still struggling to believe that it had happened.

"What is it, Bobby?" Johnson asked, looking up from Sam's wounds and staring at the hunter.

"In an attempt to end the pain, Sam… Sam slit his left wrist." Dean said quietly, not wanting to hear the words but knowing that Johnson couldn't be deprived of that certain piece of information and that Bobby didn't need any more unnecessary pressure stacked on his shoulders. He didn't want to talk about the incident at all but he was willing to walk through hell and high water to save his brother and he wasn't going to stop now, not when Sam needed him the most.

"I'm very sorry to hear that," Johnson said, a wave of emotion threatening to drag him to the floor as he stayed at the poor child on the bed. It sickened him that sometimes humans could be much bigger monsters than the things lurking in the dark and that Sam had to learn this in such an awful way. The kid was only sixteen years old and he'd experienced enough trauma to last him several lifetimes. "You did a good job cleaning these wounds Dean," he continued, "I'm going to see to his wrist and then begin to stitch up the rest of him. I'll give him a weak sedative to keep him under as this could get painful and I don't want him waking up to that but I also don't want to force too many drugs on him either so I can't give him the strong stuff."

"That's fine, doc," John said, flopping down into a chair in the corner of the room as the adrenalin wore off and he realised how exhausted he really was, "Tell us if you need anything."

"I'll be ok, John," said the doctor as a nurse ran into the room carrying some of the equipment he required, "Bobby and Dean, you two should sit down as well, I'm going to need space to fix Sam and I want you to relax as much as possible. You'll be no help to him if you pass out from fatigue when he wakes up."

"Ok, doc," said Bobby, too tired to argue, "Come on, Dean." Dean silently did as he was told, it was obvious that he wanted to hold Sam's hands and be with him through the treatment but he knew deep down that he would have to let the doctors do their jobs and that talking to his baby brother would have to wait for later. It was destroying him to sit and watch as people surrounded him but if Sam was alive then that was all that mattered. He just couldn't wait for Sam to wake up.

. . .

Sam listened silently as Johnson talked to his family and ordered people around so that he could start fixing all of Sam's injuries. It was heart breaking to hear how crushed John, Dean and Bobby sounded and it was even worse to think that it was Sam's fault they sounded like that. If only he'd waited a little longer, that way he would have been able to run into his family's open arms and a few broken bones would be all they'd have to worry about.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, bringing his knees to his chest and burying his head into his hands, "I-I couldn't do it anymore, I just wanted out." Sobs racked his entire body as the events of the last few days came flooding back to him, the horror and humility of it all just made him want to curl into a ball and die but he knew he couldn't do that, he had to see his family again.

But he was still questioning whether that was going to happen or not; his fate was still being decided. He was stuck in the middle of life and death whilst someone tried to figure out whether they should let him live or just leave him to die. They seemed to be taking their sweet time as Sam had been stuck in the darkness for hours now, at first it had been peaceful and calm, it was the first time in days that Sam was able to truly relax. But now it was terrifying as all he could do was listen to the chaos around him as his mental state slowly fell apart.

He'd given up on the screaming; it only caused him pain and wasted time. It was obvious that there was nothing he could do to influence his fate so he'd subjected himself to helplessly playing the waiting game until something happened to indicate that the jury had made their decision.

The sobs continued to rack him as he thought about all he'd lost over the past few days. Physically, he'd lost a lot of skin, a lot of weight and a lot of blood but he could handle that, even if it did hurt like hell. Mentally, he'd lost everything he ever loved; he no longer had Dean, he no longer had his dad, he no longer had Bobby and he no longer had the roar of the impala to soothe him. He'd even lost control of his life for fucks sake. What was there left for him to lose?

But he knew that no matter what happened, he had to keep fighting, he had to do everything in his power to keep his heart beating. Even if he wanted nothing more than to just let go and fall into the sweet abyss called death. He had to fight through his pain and claw his way back to life when the time came. If only he could just stop fucking crying.

He was stopped short by the feeling of a warm hand on his shoulder, there was someone next to him! Trembling, Sam slowly lifted up his head and averted his beautiful puppy dog eyes to where a woman was smiling down at him. She was beautiful in every sense of the word; her hair was golden and fell down in perfect little ringlets next to her face, her eyes twinkled happily in the darkness and she wore a clean, white nightgown decorated with small patterns that complimented her beauty perfectly.

"It's gonna be ok, Sam," she said soothingly, her voice was like honey and instantly sent chills running down Sam's spine. There was something familiar about her that Sam couldn't quite put his finger on, it wasn't until she reached down and took his hand did he realise that he only knew one person with a touch as gentle as that.

"Mum?"

 **Thank you so much for reading, I'm not really happy with the flow of this chapter but I worked on it for so long and decided that I should probably just upload it. I hope you have an amazing day and feel free to drop a review as I would really appreciate it.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Thank you so much to anyone who has reviewed this story, I really appreciate it.**

 **Note: Talk of suicide in this chapter. Also I'm not very knowledgeable when it comes to medicine and things like that so please ignore any medical errors.**

Dean stared dismally down at his brother. It had been two hours since Johnson had finished stitching Sam up and left the room with the promise to come and check everything over in a little while and Sam still showed no sign of waking up. Dean knew that it was normal for Sam to remain unconscious, he couldn't really blame him as he'd been tortured and sedated (a combination that doesn't usually lead to perfect health) but Dean's need to see Sam's hazel eyes was growing greater by the second and he didn't know if he could hang on much longer. It had been days since Dean had seen the real Sam; the Sam lying on the bed was not the Sam that Dean wanted to see. Normal Sam would toss and turn in bed with his buried nose in a book, this Sam just lay still, his entire body refusing to move. Normal Sam would ask constant questions, determined to gather as much information as humanly possible to store in his brain for later use, this Sam was silent and unresponsive. Normal Sam would smart mouth his brother at every opportunity and prove every day that he was worthy of the Winchester name, this Sam was most definitely worthy but the fact that he could die any second now took away the glory and replaced it with guilt. Guilt that would last a lifetime as both John and Dean questioned how they would have let this happen to the boy they loved and cherished more than life itself.

Tears prickled in Dean's eyes as he leaned on the bed with his hands and rested his chin on them, he'd positioned his chair right next to Sam so he could watch over him at all times whilst Bobby and John remained in the corner, both slumping fast asleep against the backs of the chairs. It had taken all the strength Dean had not to do the same, he wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep for a year so he could wash away the tiredness that loomed despairingly over him. But he couldn't bear the thought of Sam waking up and having no one to comfort him or take the pain away, the kid was going to be panicked and confused at the change of setting and would undoubtedly be in agony since Johnson hadn't yet given Sam painkillers as he didn't want to force too much medication into Sam's weakened body. Dean would have to be there for him when the time came so all thoughts of sleep were abandoned and replaced with sadness as the tears continued to fall. Sam's body was a mess of bruises, burns and scars. Most of which had been bandaged and stitched up but some would never heal, leaving Sam with long red scars to permanently remind him of what he went through. His ribs were wrapped and his ankle was enclosed in a thick cast and propped onto some pillows, it would take a few weeks for him to properly regain use of either. There was a fever running riot through his bloodstream, hopefully being brought down by the antibiotics Johnson had prescribed but sweat still dripped down his forehead and his skin was more of a grey than pink. His face was completely covered in scratches and his nose was bandaged to piece the bones back together, meaning Sam was almost unrecognisable as his face was more wounds than skin. But the worst of it all was the small bandage wrapped around Sam's left wrist, who knew such a huge injury could have such devastating effects? Dean knew that was the wound that none of them would ever really recover from, they would forever have to live with the knowledge that one of the people they loved most in the world had attempted to end their own life. Dean was still unable to comprehend it; he couldn't even imagine Sam feeling so in pain, so horrible, so worthless that he would resort to a broken piece of glass to bring him peace.

Bringing Sam back to mental stability was going to be difficult but Dean was prepared to do anything and everything to ensure his brother's happiness. Wiping the tears off of his face and clenching his jaw firmly Dean though about how he would travel the whole damn world if he had to. God help anyone who tried to hurt little Sammy again, Dean would personally rip them to shreds and scatter their pieces throughout the universe. He was going to fix his brother if it was the last thing he did.

. . .

"Bill? Good to see you," Rufus said, opening the door to the house as the strongly-built hunter appeared before him, gun held firmly in his hand.

"Good to see you too, Rufus," Bill replied, striding through the door and grasping Rufus' hand in a strong handshake, "I just wish the circumstances were a bit different."

"Don't we all?" replied Rufus sadly, leading Bill into the living room where Paige was tied, unconscious, to a chair in one corner and Michael was the same but in the other corner.

"How is the kid?" Bill asked, smirking at the black eyes the Andersons seemed to have gained.

"He's got a pretty good chance of survival but it's not guaranteed. He lost a lot of blood whilst he was here." Rufus answered, hiding the distress in his voice with a stern tone, "It's all still in the basement, I just can't bring myself to clean it up." Bill noted how defeated Rufus looked but decided not to pursue it, he was going through a lot and had spent hours handling the Andersons single-handedly after they had tortured someone he considered a son, talking about it would probably only upset him.

"Has John decided what he wants to do with these two?" Bill asked, gesturing to the still unconscious couple.

"He'll want to come back and get a little revenge once he's sure that Sam will be ok. I've been trying to keep them under until then as they get all snarly and try to escape when they're awake and I'm too tired to put up with it." Rufus said, sitting himself down onto the sofa, he hadn't slept in two days and now that adrenalin had worn off, he was exhausted.

"Well I'm here now so why don't you try and get some sleep?" Bill suggested, having noticed the large black circles resting under his friend's eyes, "I'll watch these two and see if I can cook something up for us, I stopped for food on the way here."

"Bill, you're my hero," Rufus said with a laugh, the idea of a nap and some proper food seeming like heaven to him.

"Now I know you're out of it," Bill smirked, watching as Rufus laid his head back so he could sleep on the sofa, "I don't want you awake for at least another two hours."

"Yes sir," Rufus joked tiredly as his eyelids drooped and he fell blissfully into the silent land of sleep.

. . .

"Hello Sam," she said with a smile, "I was hoping that I wouldn't have to wait such a short time to see you."

"W-what?" Sam stammered, his voice sounding child-like and his puppy eyes turned up full force as he stared at the mother he never properly met. There were a thousand emotions running through him and he didn't know which one suited the situation best. He was confused about why his mother was in front of him, he was scared that she was preparing him for death but he was also happy… happy that he was finally meeting the woman that he'd always loved no matter how much of a mystery she became. He was meeting his mother.

"I'm sorry baby," Mary said, soothingly running her fingers through his shaggy hair, "I know this is a bit much. What I meant was that I was hoping you'd be a little older, sixteen is far too young to be visiting the veil, even for the son of an expert hunter."

"Y-you know about, dad?" Sam asked, still slightly alarmed about what was going on but gradually easing into the situation as Mary's soft voice echoed blissfully in his ears.

"I know about it all, baby," Mary explained, "And I must say I'm not thrilled about how you boys were raised but at least you're still loved."

"I'm sorry, mum," Sam said, feeling the need to apologise for all he had done and the fact that Mary had been killed in his nursey, "I didn't mean for any of this to ha- "

"Shhhh, it's ok," Mary interrupted, sitting down next to her son and letting him lean on her shoulder, "None of this was your fault so don't you ever think that it was, I don't want you taking responsibility for something as horrible as that."

"Okay mum," Sam replied, nuzzling into her nightgown, enjoying the fact that he was finally experiencing the beauty of a mother's love.

"Now baby, I don't have much longer," Mary quickly said, her heart breaking as she turned to look her son in the eye, causing his head to fall off her shoulder and the beautiful moment to end. "You need to make your choice."

"What choice?" Sam said, suddenly scared as he stared wide-eyed at his mother's serious expression.

"You need to decide whether to live or die." She said urgently, her voice betraying her as a lump formed in her throat and sadness flowed out of her mouth, she wanted nothing more than to scoop up her son and carry him into heaven where they would be able to make up for lost time and learn what is was truly like to share a mother-son bond. But she knew she couldn't do that; Sam was just a kid and he deserved to live a full life. He deserved to be free of the pain and to learn what it's like to find a soulmate and live happily and peacefully. As much as it was killing her to let him go, she knew she had to persuade Sam to choose life.

Sam just stared. He was finally able to be free! He was finally able to escape the darkness and enter the light! At first, the decision had seemed easy; he had to go back to his dad and Dean, they came first no matter what. But the idea of going with his mother and spending forever curled up in her loving arms… it didn't seem so bad. He desperately wanted to see his brother but the idea of heaven with his mother was so tempting he didn't know if he would be able to resist. It was so tempting.

"Mum, I- I don't know what to do," he stammered, his eyes misting over with tears as he realised that no matter what decision he made he was going to have to abandon someone in his family, something he vowed he'd never do.

"I know this is hard, baby," Mary said, cupping his face and gazing down at him with tears in her own eyes, "But your brother and your dad need you, please go to them."

"But I don't want to leave you, mum" Sam said with a sob, the tears now flowing freely down his face, "I love you."

"Oh baby, I love you too," Mary choked, pulling her son into a hug as emotion swarmed them both. She felt horrible that she had forced such an awful decision into her son's hands but there was nothing else she could do and she wasn't going to give up on persuading him to live. She wouldn't let Sam die unless he was 100% sure it was what he wanted. "I'm not going anyway, baby. You will see me again. One day when you're old and you've lived a full life you'll come here again and I'll be waiting. I'll guide you into the light and we'll begin forever together, but until then you have to go to John and Dean, they need you Sammy." Sam felt his heart snap at the sound of Dean's favourite nickname for him, it was all getting too much. He just needed to take it all in, he needed someone to help him, he needed reassurance, he needed… Dean.

Dean.

The name brought so much happiness, so much comfort. It was in that moment that Sam realised how much he truly loved his big brother. He would do anything for Dean and he was damn sure that Dean would do the same for him. There was no way Sam could abandon him, especially after he had put so much effort into launching a rescue mission when Sam was kidnapped. Dean needed him.

"I'm sorry, mum," he choked out, "I have to go to Dean."

"Don't be sorry baby," said Mary with a sad-eyed smile, "You made the right decision. Now go, you'll see me again… one day." And with that her heart broke as she watched her son's beautiful face slowly disintegrate as his spirit descended upwards into the clinic where a broken young boy was laying unconscious in a hospital bed.

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter, it took me a long time to write but hopefully it was worth it. Feel free to review.** **J**


	19. Chapter 19

**Thank you for the reviews that were left on the last chapter, I hope you enjoy this one.**

Sam watched with his heavy heart as his mother faded from view, a sad smile evident on her face. It hurt like hell that he was forced to leave her but he knew that one day he would find her again and that fact was the only thought keeping him going as he pushed upwards and slipped silently into his body. He was no longer in the veil; he was merely unconscious. He desperately wanted to wake up and frantically attempted to claw his way to the light, trying not to let go and fall into the chasm once more. It was now or never; he knew that if he didn't wake up in a few seconds he could end up back in the veil where he would most certainly be doomed. No one got to cheat death a second time. Everyone knew that.

Climbing further towards the top, Sam sighed in relief when he finally reached his destination and he felt his eyelids begin to flutter. He'd made it to the light, he just had to enter it.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Sam pushed himself up further until he was surrounded by a warm glow and a strange sense of peace rolled over him as he gently relaxed into a lying down position and the world around him slowly turned into a small hospital treatment room.

. . .

Dean had spent another hour trying to keep himself awake before the battery in his brain finally gave out and he was forced to rest his head in his arms on the bed, quickly being dragged kicking and screaming into the world of sleep.

He dreamt of blood. He dreamt of pain. He dreamt of death. He dreamt of all the horrible things his brother had become accustomed to in the space of a few days. A wave of unease washed over him as he shuffled in his seat, not yet awake but not wanting to fully fall asleep. The nightmares were disturbing him and he wanted nothing more than to sit up again and watch his brother for a few more hours. Sammy always looked so young and innocent in his sleep and it made Dean remember when Sam was a child and he was completely naïve to the horrors that lurked in the shadows, it made Dean happy. But he just couldn't do it, he was so tired that the idea of continuing to rest and keeping his eyes closed seemed so nice, he didn't want to force himself to keep his eyes open as it just took too much effort. He was completely drained of everything he had and didn't know if he could look at Sam's weakened state again. Which is why he decided to continue his rest and fell into a dull slumber.

. . .

The first thing Sam noticed when he woke up was Dean sleeping with his head rested on the hospital bed, Sam smiled softly to himself as he thought of how peaceful Dean looked, whatever nightmares he'd been having had obviously gone away as he seemed to be dosing quietly. Sam tried to remain quiet and calm; he wanted nothing more than to let Dean get his well-earned rest but he was hit with a force of pain so brutal he couldn't help but cry out. Back in the veil, Sam's injuries had taken it backseat; it was like they weren't even there. But now they were very very real and determined to show Sam how horrible they really were. He felt the sting of the whip, the heat of the blowtorch, the sharp edge of Paige's manicured nails all over again as he squirmed on the bed, desperately trying to remain still but failing miserably as agony engulfed him and attempted to swallow him whole. He cried out again, wishing it would stop, wishing he could just, for one moment, catch a break but Winchester luck wouldn't allow him that, he felt like he was being ripped apart piece by piece. He was about to launch himself into panic mode when he felt a gentle hand rest on his shoulder and a soothing voice fill his ears.

"It's ok Sammy, I'm here."

. . .

Dean had been firmly encased in the realms of sleep when he first felt his brother move, the movement had alerted him but didn't fully pull him out of his slumber. He thought nothing of it at first, just assumed that Sam was trying to wriggle his way out of the bed they'd been sharing in whatever motel dad had picked for them this time. But he became more concerned when Sam moved a second time, sure his brother was lanky and clumsy but he never disturbed Dean this much in the morning. Deciding that he probably wasn't going to be able to fall asleep again, Dean opened his eyes and was surprised to find he was resting his head on clean, white sheets. That wasn't right. The realisation hit him like a truck; the torture, the screams, the broken glass, it all came back to him in one swift moment of terror and he bolted upright, determined to protect his brother from the unnecessary pain that was sure to come.

His world shattered when he realised he was too late; Sam was writing in agony on the hospital bed, face scrunched up in terrified frustration as he tried and failed to chase the pain away. It was obvious he was trying not to react to it so he didn't wake the people in the room but it was becoming too much and Dean knew that if he didn't do something soon they could lose Sam all over again.

"Sam, listen to me, it's going to be ok," he soothed quietly, edging over to Sam slowly so he didn't scare him. But Sam didn't react at all, Dean wouldn't have been surprised if he hadn't even heard him. It was obvious that Sam's whole world was currently filled with pain and it was going to take a lot to convince him that there was something else.

"Oh God, Sammy," Dean whispered breathlessly, he had to do something but he didn't know if he could, the sight was too heart breaking. "Please stop, Sammy," he begged, once again eliciting no response. He moved closer and softly placed a hand on Sam's uninjured shoulder, hoping that the gesture would offer comfort to his baby brother who so desperately needed it. Then he cleared his throat and with the saddest voice he could spoke the words that would end his brother's struggle:

"It's ok Sammy, I'm here."

Sam stopped writhing then, he turned and looked Dean in the eye, silently speaking a thousand words as the brothers stared intently at each other, a million conversations all rolling beautifully into one long stare that only the Winchesters could describe. It was a brotherly moment they would never forget; it was them reminding one another that they would always be there to take the pain away when the other needed it most. Sam was obviously still hurting but now that he had Dean he had enough reassurance, enough hope, to reign it in and control it. His recovery was far from complete but for the first time in days he believed that maybe, just maybe, he would be strong enough to pull himself out of the hole the Andersons had buried him in. Maybe he wasn't the pathetic child they made him out to be.

"It's gonna be ok, Sammy," Dean spoke, the tears silently rolling down his face, "We're gonna fix this." Sam nodded slowly, still feeling the agony of what he had been put through but no longer caring. He felt safe now and that was all that mattered.

Dean looked up and spotted John stood just behind the bed, his finger pushing down on the call button that would bring a nurse into the room. Sam needed medication and he needed it now. John and Bobby had both desperately wanted to jump in and help with calming Sam down but they knew that too many people would overwhelm him and the last thing they wanted to do was worsen the situation. They would just have to hang back until Sam was ready to speak to them again.

Sam was clutching Dean's hand tightly when Johnson walked in and he jumped suddenly at the appearance of an unfamiliar person in the room. His nerves quickly tangled themselves and his stomach clenched, he still wasn't entirely trusting of people after being snatched by a woman posing as his substitute Principal.

Johnson's eyes widened at the sight of the youngest Winchester awake on the bed, his facial expression was one of pain and he was clinging determinedly to his brother. Johnson knew he was going to have to be careful with his approach as it was clear Sam was not ready to engage with people like he normally would. But who was to blame him? His life had been made a living hell a few days ago.

"Hey Sam," he said softly, "My name is Johnson and I'm a doctor. I've helped your father's friends before and now I'm here to help you." Sam studied the man carefully, he seemed harmless enough but Sam didn't want to take any chances, not after being tortured in a cellar for days on end. He looked to Dean for reassurance and was rewarded with a nod. If Dean trusted Johnson then so did Sam, well that was a slight exaggeration but he was willing to let Johnson treat him if he had Dean at his side.

"Ok," he said softly, gripping Dean's hand a little tighter. Dean squeezed Sam's hand back and moved closer to him so he could quickly jump in and calm Sam down should the situation call for it.

"That's good, Sam," Johnson replied, "I'm going to come over and inject some medication into your IV."

Sam nodded and tensed up as Johnson slowly approached, he felt Dean card his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes with a deep breath so he could relax into the touch and block out everything else that was happening.

It was over quicker than he expected and a strange sense of relief washed over him as the medicine was injected. He suddenly felt the urge to go back to sleep and turned to Dean with a slight smile as the darkness encased him and his eyes slowly closed, he'd had enough action for one day and was relieved to finally be able to have a proper rest instead of screaming in pain and fighting himself in the veil.

Dean grinned as Sam visibly relaxed and slowly melted into the bed, "Sleep well, Sammy," he said, pulling the blanket up to his brother's chin and tucking him up like he did when Sam was little. They still had a long way to go in the healing process but Dean was now 100% certain that he'd finally gotten his little brother back.

 **I know the story seems to be moving slow at the moment but I wanted the brother's reunion to be lengthy and emotional. Don't worry though, there's more action to come; John still needs to get his revenge on the Andersons and bringing Sam home is going to be pretty difficult so look forward to that. I hope you enjoyed the chapter.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Thank you to everyone who read my last chapter. Sorry this one took so long; I've got some stuff going on that I have to deal with.**

 **Note: I know absolutely nothing about medicine and stuff so please bear with me. Also, swearing.**

John and Bobby slowly approached the bed, both of them really desperate to see the youngest Winchester but neither wanted to scare him by accident. It was clear that he was not yet ready to be around new people and none of the hunters knew whether Sam would react well to having three people crowding him.

"It's ok guys," Dean reassured, still carding his fingers through Sam's hair, "Sammy's asleep now." Both hunters immediately quickened their pace and were both at Sam's side within seconds. John quickly latched onto his youngest's hand and began thumbing the side of Sam's fingers to offer reassurance. Whilst Bobby just stared silently at Sam's now bandaged form and tried to hold back the tears, now that the blood had been washed away he could see how bad Sam's wounds really were and the effects were devastating, it looked like Sam had been torn to shreds and clumsily glued back together again. Not to mention the snaky, red infection lines that seemed to have permanently etched themselves in Sam's skin. Bobby knew that the road to recovery was going to be slow and rocky and that there were going to be many setbacks; the moment Sam started to improve physically his mental scars would make an appearance and he would be thrown back to square one with a bump and a jolt. But he was going to have all the support in the world, Bobby knew that John and Dean would never give up on him and that pretty much the entire hunting community was willing to drop everything and come running to help should the Winchesters need it. Despite everything that had happened, Sam was still a very lucky boy to have so many people he could rely on, especially now that he was going to need it.

Johnson watched from afar, it touched him to see how close the family really were. He'd heard a lot about the Winchesters and Singer but the numerous rumours and beautiful stories were nothing compared to the visible bond that they clearly shared. He hated how the Winchesters had ended up in his clinic but Johnson was unbelievably happy to have them there, it wasn't often he got to speak freely about hunts and the long hours often left him feeling lonely and exhausted, at least now he had people he knew would be willing to help him with his work no matter what.

Hating to ruin the moment but knowing it was necessary, Johnson stepped forward, "I'm sorry gentlemen but I'm going to have to check Sam over, I want to see if the antibiotics have started to take effect and if his fever's gone down. If so, I'll be able to figure out what painkillers he can take instead of just sedating him when he's hurting," he explained. Immediately, all three of the hunters looked at him and slowly nodded their heads. Bobby and John stepped to the side but Dean remained by the bed, his hand firmly holding onto Sam's. He shuffled a little out of the way but it was clear he wasn't going to be moving anymore, the protectiveness Dean had for his brother never ceased to amaze Johnson.

. . .

It wasn't until the doctor had finished Sam's examination before Dean relaxed; he had complete trust in Johnson but wasn't yet ready to take the risk of allowing a stranger to come near his brother again. Johnson noticed the boy's tenseness but didn't take any offence, after witnessing the aftermath of Sam's ordeal Johnson didn't think he'd be willing to ever let anyone near the kid again.

"Ok, everything's looking good," he said, tucking the blanket around Sam's chin once, "Vitals are a little all over the place but that's to be expected. The infection seems to be running its course and the fever's gone down, however they could get worse again so I'm going to be keeping a firm eye on Sam for the next few hours and I want you to call me if you notice any sudden changes. Also if he wakes up he'll need painkillers so make sure to call me for those too."

"Thanks doc," John replied, relieved that his son was showing signs of improvement, even if it wasn't much, "Anything else?"

"Nope, that should cover it," Johnson answered, quickly jotting a couple of things down onto a clipboard, "I'll leave you alone now."

They all watched as Johnson finished up with his writing and swiftly exited the room, closing the door behind him.

"You know, if anyone was to survive torture like that, you'd bet it'd be Sam," Bobby said, staring proudly down at the boy he considered a son, "I can't believe he's doing so well."

"Well I can," Dean said with a smile, "Sam's freaking tough and he's definitely shown all of us that."

"You got that right," John said, his face lighting up as he realised how strong his boy really was to have fought so hard against death. But his face immediately fell when he remembered that Sam had tried to bring death upon himself, worry suddenly pulsed itself through him as John wandered whether the boy on the bed would really be Sam when he woke up. Chances were, the child would be haunted and scared and unable to talk about the horrors that he'd been subjected to, hunting would be out of the question and Sam might even have to be placed on suicide watch. The thought brought on a sob that John couldn't hold back.

Both Bobby and Dean heard the cry of despair suddenly wrenched from the grizzled hunter and it bloody terrified them. John Winchester didn't scare easy and for him to be making a noise like that – he had to be suffering greatly.

"Dad?" Dean asked shakily.

"I'm ok, Dean," John replied, sliding down into a chair and putting his head in his hands, "I just need a minute."

"Bullshit!" Bobby snapped, not wanting to anger John but knowing that he was following the typical Winchester rule of covering up the pain he felt, "John as soon as you're feeling up to it, you're going to talk about this. You're gonna be no help to Sam if you can't get your emotions in check."

"I know, Bobby," John said from inside his hands, "I know."

"Good," Bobby replied quietly, not willing to push any further until he knew John would be strong enough to take it, "We'll be here when you're ready."

. . .

Slap! Paige felt the sting erupt on her cheek as Rufus glared furiously at her, his hand raised in warning that he wasn't afraid to strike again if he felt necessary. Paige just stared back at him, secretly seething in anger and pain but not willing to show any weakness. Michael was the opposite, he struggled and shouted from the other side of the room, protesting against the brutal treatment of his wife and the bonds that attached him to the chair he was currently. His efforts, however, were met with a punch to the face as Bill's meaty fist collided with Michael's already fractured cheek. The pain was like an explosion and Michael screamed in agony, his arms flailing wildly and spit flying everywhere. It was clear that being tied to a chair for about a day and constantly being punched was not having a good effect on him, Paige knew her husband was about an inch from breaking point and she hated to think of how he would take the torture that John was undoubtedly going to unleash on them.

That being said, Paige was not going to offer herself up as a martyr and take all of her husband's pain so that he could die peacefully. He was the one that had let Sam's puppy eyes get to him and couldn't handle the punishment the hunters gave him. As far as Paige was concerned, he was weak and not cut out for the demonic life she wished to live. She still loved him though and would take him with her should she get the chance to escape. However, those chances were getting slimmer by the hour and Paige knew she was probably going to have to subject herself to a world filled with pain and her husband's screams.

. . .

"I-I'm just worried that he won't want to l-live anymore," John sobbed, beckoning to the bandage wrapped around his son's wrist, "He tried to kill himself! He resorted to using a broken piece of glass to take his pain away!"

Dean rubbed circles on his father's back and held back tears as he listened to the horrible words that were tumbling out of his mouth. He was pretty sure that his dad was having a mental breakdown and wasn't aware of the effect of the things he was saying but Dean couldn't help but wonder if he was right. Was Sam really the same boy he had been a few days ago? Would he really be willing to put as much effort into living as he had before?

Bobby watched as John broke down and showed proper emotion for the first time in years whilst Dean played it cool and acted as though it was no big deal. However, Bobby could see right past it and knew that the middle Winchester was secretly terrified. It was hard not to break down himself but Bobby knew that they were in desperate need of a chick-flick moment and he was certainly willing to give it to them.

Slowly, he lowered himself down beside John and opened his mouth, "I know this is hard but we have to think positively. Sam clearly suffered a lot during his time with the Andersons and they must have said some stuff that messed him up a little. But no matter what, he has us and he always will. We'll be right here to help him through it and stitch up any mental scars that are bothering him. I hate to think that Sam would ever take his own life but he did and we're going to have to be prepared to face up to that. I reckon that he didn't' actually want to leave us all behind, it just got too much for him and he decided that he'd rather choose to die instead of just letting the Andersons do it for him. As long as we stand by him, he will heal and he'll live his life as best as he can, we just have to make sure he knows he's loved and he never hears from the Andersons again."

"Oh don't worry about that," John said, slowly looking up with anger blazing in his eyes, "Once I know Sam is ok I'm going to end those bastards once and for all. They won't know what hit 'em."

"Sounds good to me John," Bobby replied, glad that the awful thoughts about Sam seemed to have gone away, "You end those monsters."

 **Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and that you have an amazing day.**


	21. Chapter 21

It was another three hours before Sam began to stir and Dean, now well-rested and full of good food, was on him like a shot, ready to comfort his brother through the pain he knew was coming. John practically dived for the call button, eager for Johnson to come with meds as soon as possible so Sam wouldn't have to suffer more than necessary. Bobby just stood up, unsure of whether Sam would be able to face him yet so backed to the edge of the room and decided to remain there until he was sure his presence was welcome.

It took thirty seconds or so for Sam to become aware of himself, he just lay in the fuzzy realm between consciousness and unconsciousness and tried to move towards the familiar voice that was calling him. When he finally awoke he was elated to discover that the voice belonged and to Dean and happiness washed over him, happiness that lasted about half a second. Before Sam could even react, he felt sharp stabbing pains in his chest and a firm sting overwhelmed him. A strangled cry quickly escaped his lips before he fought to regain control of himself and lay panting on his bed, biting relentlessly on his lower lip to stop himself from crying out again. It took him another few seconds to realise the voice was speaking again, he slowly turned his head and looked into the bright, green eyes of a very concerned Dean, Sam pushed back the pain further so he could stare, once more, at the brother he'd desperately missed.

"Hey little brother," Dean said softly, rubbing Sam's cheek as he gazed down at him, "I know you're hurting right now and the doctor's on his way. You don't have to hold back the cries if you don't want to, no one here's going to judge you." Sam simply shook his head, not trusting his voice. The idea of screaming and crying did seem quite appealing to him as holding it back was proving to be exhausting but he'd screamed enough over the past few days and had his mind set on rebuilding his dignity. Besides, he knew that his screams would upset his family and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

Johnson hesitantly entered the room, knowing he was needed but not wanting to ruin the family moment he could hear from outside the room. But one look at the pain lines etched onto Sam's face and Johnson knew that painkillers were a number one priority; Sam wouldn't remain conscious for much longer if he continued to hurt the way he was.

The doctor quickly edged around the room to the supply cupboard in the far corner, he tried to stay as far away from the patient's bed as possible as he knew that panic was not something the youngest Winchester could afford to do and judging by the way he was leaning into Dean's shirt, it was something he was tipping onto the edge of. It was clear that Johnson's unfamiliar presence was not welcome by the teenager on the bed as he was still weary of strangers but, unfortunately, it was essential and needed to be done, Johnson could only hope that Dean would be able to comfort his brother long enough for him to do what he needed to do and quickly slip out the room before Sam did something that could potentially cause himself harm.

Keeping the shaking in his hands to a minimum, Johnson reached into the cupboard and pulled out a syringe and the painkiller he required. Quickly checking the dosage, he put the necessary amount into the syringe and turned to the concerned father who was stood next to Sam's bed and watching as Dean sat behind his brother and rubbed circles on his back.

"John," he said seriously, "Could you please insert this painkiller into Sam's IV? I would do it myself but I don't want to alarm him."

"Y-yeah that should be fine, the grizzled hunter replied, reluctantly turning his back on his children and walking over to take the syringe out of the doctor's hand. It took him a few seconds but he finally located where the syringe was supposed to go and pressed it quickly into the IV as Sam began to shake.

"Son?" John asked worriedly, "Are you alright?" Sam just buried his head further into Dean's shirt, the pain, the new person, the medication, it was all getting to be too much and he just wanted to curl up and leave the world behind. If only he'd gone with his mum, maybe then he wouldn't be putting all this stress on his himself and his family.

"It's ok Sam," Dean whispered into his brother's hair, "You're doing so well, I'm so proud of you." Sam stopped short as he listened to Johnson hastily pack up the cupboard and dart out the room, the door clicking shut behind him. Sam looked up at his brother with sad eyes.

"You shouldn't be proud of me, Dean," he sobbed, "I let this happen to me, I bought all this stress down on you, it's all my fault." Dean could physically feel his heart snap at his brother's words, he pulled Sam closer to him and tried not to cry as he offered words of comfort to his shattered sibling.

"Don't you ever say that again little bro. None of this is on you; it was the Andersons and you can trust me when I say that when we're through with them, you'll never have to worry ever again as they'll be six feet underground. Don't go blaming yourself for this, we were happy to help you and I would go through a thousand times more stress to save you, as you would for me. So don't you ever think that you're a burden because I love you more than anything in this world." Sam sobbed harder as he listened to Dean, he felt the words sink in and hadn't ever been more grateful for his big brother. Dean truly was a hero and Sam wouldn't ever think different. He opened his mouth to speak but the words got stuck in his throat and he found himself crying harder.

"Shh it's okay," Dean said, rocking his brother back and forth, "You don't have to talk anymore if you're not ready."

John could only watch as Sam fell apart on the bed, his mental state clearly affected by his time spent in the Anderson's cellar and it felt like a punch to the stomach that Sam was blaming himself for what happened. He was about to intervene when Dean slowly started to stitch him back together, offering kind comfort and assuring him that he would never be considered less than perfect in the Winchester household, it was a touching moment and John's eyes misted over as he thought of the brotherly bond that his sons shared. One thing was for sure; nothing was ever going to come between those two. Ever.

And John couldn't be more proud.

. . .

Mary smiled lovingly as she gazed down at her boys with sad eyes. It hurt her to think that she was missing such a special moment but she was overwhelmingly glad that Sam had decided to back to living. John and Dean would never be the same without him and Sam would have spent his last moments in absolute terror, something Mary would never wish on her worst enemy.

Hesitantly, she raised a shaky hand and wiped the tears from her cheeks as her sons continued to rock back and forth on the bed, it was beautiful to watch them together and although Mary disagreed with the way John had raised them, she was glad of one thing; her boys were inseparable and the whole world knew it.

 **I really hope that you liked this small filler chapter, don't worry there'll be some Winchester revenge in the next one. Please review, I'd love to know what you think (even if you hate it). Have a great day xx**


	22. Chapter 22

**Thanks for all the reviews on last chapter, it brightens up my day and makes this all worth it**

 **Note: Mild language**

John smiled warmly down at his youngest before his eyes travelled over to his oldest and his mile grew. Both his children were sleeping peacefully and it made John happy to think that, even if it was only for a few hours, they were able to forget everything that had happened and get some well-earned rest. It had taken about half an hour to calm Sam down after he had broken down in Dean's arms but the family bonding time they had afterwards made it all worth it. They'd broken Dean's no chick-flick rule about a million times so they could tell Sam how proud they were of him and how much they loved him but Dean didn't seem to mind and his own face had lightened up significantly after seeing the smile that passed over his younger brother's lips.

However, it was still very clear that Sam was a long way from being ok, he still flinched whenever someone made a sudden movement and seemed unwilling to talk about what happened with the Andersons. John knew this was to be expected but he couldn't help but wonder whether Sam would ever be able to face up to what happened; his son had been through a hell of a lot and if he did ever try to talk about it, it would be extremely difficult. But John knew that there were a lot of people who were willing to help and Dean had already demonstrated a lot of patience so there was no doubt about whether Sam had the support he needed, he just had to build his confidence.

Once the boys woke up, he would triple check they were ok and then leaved Bobby to look after them for a while so that he could return to the Anderson's house and show them what happened when you dared touch one of his children.

Bobby stared at the Winchester father, approving of the way he absentmindedly smiled when his eyes fell on the sleeping boys. Despite the fact that they were no longer young and were both surprisingly tall, they looked like little children when they slept and it somehow seemed like they were young and innocent and completely oblivious to the life-ruining existence of the supernatural. No wonder it made John smile.

But Bobby knew what John was planning; he was going to leave the hospital and show the Andersons what he was made of. Bobby didn't disapprove of this, he was pretty eager to get in on the action himself, he just wished that John would wait a little longer. Sam still couldn't stay awake for longer than a few hours and his wounds were far from healed, meaning he was in a considerable amount of pain. And once they got over the physical boundaries, there'd be hell to pay with the mental ones. None of them were looking forward to that and Bobby secretly wandered if releasing stress to help him through the next few months were part of John's violent intentions, they all knew he didn't have much patience when it came to dealing with emotion and he was probably looking forward to the release as well as the revenge.

Both hunters were suddenly pulled out of their thought processes by a small groan from the hospital bed. Bobby was about to curse the universe for not letting Sam get a decent amount of sleep when he glanced at the clock and realised it had been a good six hours since he'd closed his eyes, Bobby must have nodded off himself. "Oh well," he thought to himself, "Probably needed a bit of shut eye."

"Son?" John asked softly, approaching the bed and seating himself next to his son, attempting to grab his hand but deciding against it when he remembered the IV that was plugged into Sam's hand. "You with me, son?" Sam's eyes fluttered a couple of times before he opened them and looked around disorientated, clearly not fully aware of his surroundings. "It's ok, Sam," John reassured, running his thumb over his son's cheeks, "I'm here."

"D-dad?" Sam croaked, his voice dripping with pain.

"Hey Sammy," John said, reaching over to the pain medication Johnson had left them and quickly placing it into the syringe before pushing the needle into Sam's IV and watching with relief as Sam's face visibly relaxed, "How you feeling?"

"Better," he replied somewhat happily. His voice was still rasping but, considering all of his other injuries, it was the least of John's worries, "Still hurts bit though."

"I know, son," John said, smiling sympathetically, "You're being so brave."

"T-thanks sir," Sam said, genuinely meaning it. John felt a pang of guilt at the peaceful look on Sam's face, knowing he was going to disappear for a few days and leave his son behind. But he reminded himself that he was doing this for his son and that he would never truly find peace if he didn't end those suckers once and for all.

"Sam," he said shakily, "Would you mind if I… left for a while?"

. . .

Rufus snapped the phone shut and turned to look at Bill who was sat at the table nursing a beer, a look of anguish on his face. Neither of the men minded watching the Andersons but the constant threats and begs and screams were getting to them and they didn't know how long it would be before one of them snapped and quickly put a bullet through the head of one of the people John Winchester wanted to kill personally. Rufus was glad to be able to deliver the news he was about to deliver.

"John's on his way," he announced, "Looks like operation: revenge has officially begun."

"About time," Bill replied with a slight smirk before concern overcame his features and he glanced worriedly at Rufus, "How did the boys feel about that? How's Sam?"

"Sam's doing about as well as expected which is pretty good as apparently Johnson was expecting a major setback after everything that he went through," Rufus answered, "John said both boys seemed upset about him leaving so soon but they understood why he was doing it."

"I hope he's right," Bill said, "Sam doesn't need to add 'absentee father' to his list of worries, the kid's been through enough already."

"I know, Bill, I know," Rufus replied sympathetically, "Now let's get these bitches awake, don't want them to still be asleep when John arrives."

. . .

Paige glanced up from where she was sat, still, in the chair that she'd been tied to for god knows how long, her attempts to break the ropes had proved unsuccessful every time and she found herself cursing Rufus for the talent he possessed when it came to tying knots. But it wasn't only the restraints that were annoying her; something was happening. Something bad.

Michael and Paige had both suddenly been woken up not long ago and that never happened, Rufus and Bill usually seemed to think that the longer the Andersons were unconscious, the better. But now they were actively encouraging the couple to stay awake and it made Paige uneasy. There was also the grim sense of satisfaction that they had written all over their faces; it was clear that they were happy about something and that meant trouble as far as Paige was concerned. Neither Bill nor Rufus seemed to like Paige one bit and they revelled in her constant pain, if they were excited then it meant something bad was going to happen to her, something she wouldn't particularly enjoy.

She wanted to curse at them and spit in their faces to destroy the smug looks they held there but she knew she would only make things worse for herself so she settled for pretending that she didn't give a shit about them. No matter how much they tormented her, she'd never let her walls drop, she straightened her posture and slapped on a bitch face that would make even Sam proud, her entire presence radiated confidence. She could tell her stubbornness had gotten to the hunters and it gave her satisfaction to think that she made them angry but now they were barely affected and that only cranked up her concern another level. But still, she pouted and acted like they were merely annoying little bugs she could easily squash, determined to remain strong and bitchy until the last moment.

She faltered, however, when a large figure appeared in the doorway; she only knew one man who held himself like that. She tried not to show her immediate fear but she couldn't help but gulp, the look on his face was _terrifying,_ never had she seen a man look so angry but so in control of himself at any moment in time. It was clear that he was not just here for a little payback, he was here for revenge.

Cold. Hard. Revenge.

And as John Winchester walked further into the room, a sadistic smile playing on his lips, Paige's hands started to shake. She was still hiding her fear well but there were some things even she couldn't stop, the horrible trembling of her fingers was one of them. She could tell he had noticed and it only made her more scared; he was practically feeding off her fear and savouring every moment like it was a delicious meal that he would never eat again. He had the Andersons in the palm of his hand and he was going to make them beg.

Paige cowered down into her chair at the even more horrifying look that his features had formed and she realised that she had been wrong all along; the hunters weren't the bugs. It was her, she was the bug, and she was about to be squashed.

 **I hope you enjoyed and that you have an amazing day xx**


	23. Chapter 23

**I am so so sorry that it's been so long since I last updated but this chapter has been bugging me so much, I must have written at least five different versions of this before I settled for this one. I'm still not entirely happy with it but I know that the more I tweak the worse I'll think it is so I decided to just upload it. Please enjoy.**

 **Note: reference to suicide and maybe a few swear words.**

"Y-you can't h-hurt me," Paige stammered, blood sloshing around in her mouth and messing with her words, "N-not anym-more."

"Is that so?" John taunted, relishing in the power he felt as Paige struggled to remain upright and visibly winced at every movement she tried to make, "Because I could have sworn I heard you screaming merely two minutes ago."

Paige tried to think of a reply but her head was pounding viciously and her entire world was spinning. She could barely stay awake, let alone fire back smartass comments. She didn't know how long the torture had lasted but I had been a long time, Michael was already unconscious and Paige wasn't entirely sure whether he was still alive or not. But she didn't care about him, not anymore, when John was dragging the knife through his stomach he broke down and screamed that he wasn't to blame. He insisted that everything was Paige's idea and that he never wanted to do it. John still tormented him but Paige wasn't happy about the way he'd thrown her under the bus, if she did make it out alive she planned to abandon him as quickly as possible.

"Not got much to say, huh?" John continued, grinning at the way Paige tried to look up at him but had to squint to get her vision in check and ended up swaying deliriously in her chair at the pain the mere movement had caused, "Because I'm not finished with you yet, sweetheart."

Paige didn't know what John started doing, she'd given up trying to keep track of him methods, but she heard him move and pain exploded in her stomach. She screamed long and loud but John never relented once and there was no one else to hear, no one who cared anyway. Rufus and Bill seemed to be enjoying her agony almost as much as John was, they'd even had a go at making her life hell themselves.

The pain worsened and the pitch in her screams heightened as she struggled fruitlessly in her chair, trying to do something, anything, to get herself away from the weapon that was ripping her apart. But the bonds were too strong and she was too weak; there was nothing she could do. Unfortunately, Paige was pathetically aware of her acceptance of this as she floated slowly but mercifully into the darkness.

. . .

"She's out cold," Rufus said, roughly shaking the head of his captor and slapping her around the face to try and wake her up.

"It's ok, Rufus," John said from where he was cleaning his knives in the middle of the room, "As long as she's still alive and she wakes up soon, we'll be fine."

"Ok John, whatever you say," Rufus replied, walking away from Paige and flopping down onto the sofa with a sign. Damn, he was flipping exhausted. He'd only gotten a few hours of sleep in the past four days and it didn't seem like he was going to be getting anymore anytime soon, not with the way John was making the Andersons scream.

"You ok, Rufus?" Bill asked, walking into the room with two beers and noticing the way his friend was slumped on the sofa with his eyes closed, dark circles prominent under his eyes.

"I'm fine," Rufus replied, weakly raising his hand in a reassuring gesture but not bothering to open his eyes or sit up properly, the adrenalin from the torture was quickly leaving him and he was trying to make the most of the break he had been given.

"Yeah and Paige Anderson is an innocent woman," Bill said with a snort, "Seriously, Rufus, you're going to make yourself ill if you don't get some rest soon."

"But John needs me here," Rufus said, opening his eyes and looking at Bill.

"You can get some sleep if you want Rufus," John said, sitting down next to the hunter, "I may want nothing more than to hear that woman scream again but I'm not going to do it at your expense. Go upstairs, lie down, and get some shuteye."

"I can't," Rufus said, "It's too noisy in here."

"Oh, don't worry about that," John reassured him, "Neither of these two are going to be waking up anytime soon and I was thinking about heading back to the hospital and visiting Sam for a bit, it's been over six hours since I left and it'll take me a good half hour to get back there."

"Ok, if you're sure," Rufus replied, secretly excited about being given permission to slip in between some warm sheets, "Bill, wake me up in a bit so you can have a nap too."

"Sure thing old man," Bill chuckled, knowing full well that he would do no such thing.

"I'm younger than you are, Bill," Rufus retorted, slowly making his way up the stairs.

"Only physically," Bill threw back, laughing at the scoff that followed, "Goodnight Rufus."

"Shut up pansy!" Rufus shouted from the top floor as he searched for the guest room.

"Honestly you two bicker more than my boys," John said to Bill with a smile, "And they're kids."

"Not for much longer," Bill replied, "They're already fine hunters and I doubt you'll be able to control them for much longer, not with how determined Dean is to kill the evil the roams the Earth and how dedicated Sam is to his brother."

"I know," John said sadly, "But I'll make them stay in touch no matter what and I ain't gonna lose 'em permanently. Not ever." His eyes darkened at the very thought but he quickly shook it off knowing that it would only terrify his youngest, "Now I must get back to them, keep an eye on these bitches for me."

"You got it," Bill said, raising his beer and smiling at the two blood-soaked forms slumping in their chairs, "See you later."

. . .

"Sam can I ask you something?" Dean said, when Bobby left the room to grab some lunch and Dean finally had Sam all to himself.

"Sure Dean," Sam said somewhat unenthusiastically, he'd barely spoken since Dad left and had spent most of the time staring at the wall with a melancholy expression on his face. Dean knew that the question he was about to ask probably wasn't a good idea but he knew Sam would soon have to start talking about what happened and they might as well start by establishing what Dean didn't know. Of course, Dean's biggest question was specifically why Sam had decided to slit his own wrist but he decided to start slow and ask something else.

"Sam, I already know most of what happened to you because those sickos decided to video most of it," Sam recoiled a little at the statement but he remained straight faced and didn't say that Dean should stop so he hesitantly carried on, "And I can guess what happened with some of the other stuff but what I don't understand is this." Dean reached up and pointed at the long, red scars that completely covered Sam's face, specifically around his eyes. They hadn't healed yet and Dean suspected that a couple of them would never go away, the stitches that Johnson had applied were awkward because of how the doctor had to avoid stitching up Sam's eyes and that meant they could permanently scar but Dean knew Sam wasn't ready to hear that yet so he continued with his question, "How did you end up with so many scratches over your face?"

Sam gulped as Dean questioned him, a number of things crossed his mind as he tried to organise his emotions, he knew that he really should tell Dean what happened as he had every right to know and it might do some good to talk about it but Sam didn't know if he could. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he decided to try anyway.

"P-Paige came to me in the middle of the night one time and told me that I wasn't allowed to do puppy eyes anymore. I thought she was joking at first as it seemed so stupid and I didn't even know I was doing it but she just got more serious and threatened to gouge my eyes out with hot pokers if I did it again." Sam listened as Dean cursed but continued with a shaky voice, "So I decided to try my best to stop as Paige was freakin' crazy and I didn't really want to piss her off. But a couple of days later when they were… hurting me, I stopped thinking. I just screamed and looked around and started panicking because it hurt so bad and I just wanted it to stop. I couldn't even see because my vision was so blurry and I didn't keep track of what I was doing, I just kinda lost it. All of a sudden, Paige lands on top of me and starts clawing at my face. At first I thought she was just messing with me again but then she started screaming and cursing at me and I realised she was angry, like really really angry. Apparently, I'd done the puppy eyes again and she just snapped, she was scratching me with her nails and insulting me and completely losing her mind. She was moving so fast and screaming so loud but it went on for ages." Sam stopped and his voice wobbled, tears were flowing freely down his face and he wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep but knew he should finish the story, "S-She was trying to take my eyes out. She probably would have succeeded if it wasn't for the fact she was so blinded by rage because then she could have been tactical and slow but instead she just lost the plot and m-my face paid the price I guess."

Silence engulfed the room as Dean process what he had just learnt and Sam dealt with what he had just said, both boys were overcome with emotion and neither knew what to say to make it better. Dean was so furious he knew that anything he said would only scare Sam and Sam wanted to say that he was okay and that he didn't mind what happened but he knew, deep down, that that was a lie and the last thing he wanted to do was lie to Dean, he'd only just got him back.

"I'm sorry Sam," Dean eventually choked out, his sadness finally overtaking his anger, "I'm so sorry I let this happen to you." Sam just stared, heartbroken, as Dean crumbled in front of him, tears dripping down his cheeks and small sobs racking his body.

"It's not your fault," he said timidly, "E-Everything that happened this week didn't happen because of you, it happened because of the Andersons. I don't b-blame you Dean, I won't ever blame you."

Dean listened to his brother's softly spoken words and wandered what on Earth he had done to deserve them. Sadness overcame him as he realised he wanted to question Sam further and learn what else he should be held responsible for but he knew that Sam had said enough for one day. Dean also wanted to hear about what Sam thought about their father's sudden disappearance as it was certainly killing Dean, but he knew that that question would also have to wait. He just wanted to hug his brother and never let go, he'd been through so much and was still so strong. One thing was for sure, Dean had the best brother in the whole damn world.

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'll try to update when I can but it may take a while, I've got exams coming up and I really want to do well so this may have to take a backseat for a while but I'll do what I can. Have a great day xx**


	24. Chapter 24

**So here it is, my second to last chapter. I really don't want this to end but I feel like Chapter 25 is a good place to finish so I'm going to end it then.**

 **Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed, seriously you guys are so amazing and the nice comments brighten up my day like nothing else.**

 **I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

 **Note: Swearing (even though you should probably be used to that by now :'D)**

Blood. It covered her.

Pain. It consumed her every thought.

Agony. It coursed through her veins and set alight to her nerves in a way that she knew she would never be able to fully describe.

Death. She wished for it, she craved it, she clawed for it… but it never came.

As Paige recovered, barely conscious, she tried to recall whether John had said something about terrorising her again but her memory was failing her and she was too distracted by the too bright lights and the too loud noises that seemed intent on plaguing her.

From what she could tell, John was no longer present; she couldn't hear him snarling or taunting anymore so she assumed he had left, but she didn't get her hopes up as she knew he could be back at any time and he'd only want to have more fun. So, Paige resided herself to whimpering where she sat and trying not to go insane as her thoughts were cruelly manipulated and changed by the everlasting throb of pain that seemed to have made camp inside of her.

. . .

Bobby sighed as he stared down at the teen on the bed; Sam just didn't look like Sam anymore. Sure, Bobby could understand the paleness and the bandages and the facial scars and the skinniness - it was all expected given the circumstances. But the thing that Bobby couldn't quite handle was the drastic change in Sam's eyes… they'd lost their spark. Sam used to have beautiful, trusting eyes that could say a thousand words without ever having to move. He was such a caring person who remained optimistic about the world even after all the evil he had seen and his eyes alone could tell anyone this. People would pour their hearts out to him and watch as he effortlessly portrayed every emotion with the hazel wonders on his face. Sam's eyes were a gift and the whole world knew it.

But now they were different, now they were haunted. One look into Sam's now dull eyes and you knew he had been through a hell of a lot. He was no longer able to trust people or see the good in the world and invisible barriers had appeared beneath his eyelids, preventing anyone from getting close to him or possibly scarring him further. He was completely drained and no longer had the energy to perform wonders with his face and that saddened Bobby more than anything else.

Sam, in that moment, happened to be lying on the bed using his new eyes to stare blankly at the wall whilst John and Dean talked outside. John had returned to the hospital five minutes earlier and Dean had immediately requested to talk to him in private before he saw Sam, Bobby suspected it was about what Sam had said earlier about Paige tearing his face to shreds. Bobby was theoretically not supposed to know about but of course he'd been listening outside the door, he'd be damned if he didn't hear what the boy he loved had experienced. Speaking of which, Bobby had been meaning to talk to him.

"Sam?"

Sam's response was slow and pained but he somehow managed to shift his damaged body so that he was facing Bobby, "Y-Yeah?"

"Can I talk to you for a minute, son?"

There was a visible change in Sam's demeanour, his entire body stiffened and his facial expression neutralised, Bobby knew immediately that Sam had put his walls up and was not willing to let anyone in. Despite this, the teen still spoke: "Bobby I know you mean well and everything and I know that I need to talk about what happened to get through this but I really can't do it anymore today, I've already done it once and I'm just so exhausted." Bobby had to stifle a sob at Sam's broken voice and heart breaking confession but he knew he had to continue even if Sam tried to resist.

"T-That's not what it's about Sam," he explained.

Sam loosened a little and his facial expression became a little sympathetic, it was evident that his walls had lowered a little now that he'd realised he wasn't going to be forced to talk about the Andersons and their torture methods.

"I was just wandering," Bobby continued, knowing he was about to become an even more prominent father figure, "How did you really feel about your dad taking off so soon?"

"Oh… right," Sam said, gulping a little, "Well… I-I don't really know… I guess… I guess I was kinda disappointed."

"What do you mean, son?" Bobby asked.

"I understand Dad's need for revenge, I really do, but I didn't realise it had to be so soon," he explained, a little shakily, "I thought dad might at least wait until I was somewhat better or until Dean said it would be okay but I guess he just couldn't wait any longer." Bobby watched as Sam seemed to deflate at the words coming out of his mouth and Bobby secretly didn't blame him; he too had been far from happy about John's sudden departure even if he did understand the hunter instinct that was the need for instant revenge.

"I'm sorry Sam," Bobby said, knowing that no matter what he said it wouldn't comfort Sam as there was no real way to explain why John did what he did, "Just know that your dad loves you."

"I know he does," Sam said softly, "And I know he tries his best and I couldn't ask for a better dad but sometimes… sometimes I feel that he doesn't really understand the way that I think. For him, life is about the hunt; he shoots, he drinks, he sleeps and nothing else. He thinks that showing emotion is weakness and that me and Dean should just automatically listen to everything he says because ganking the thing that killed mom is our life goal. But I just don't enjoy hunting and I find it hard to hide how I'm feeling, I guess I got that from mum. And I do desperately want to kill the thing that got her but not to the point that I think about nothing else and accidentally hurt the people I love because of it. Dad just doesn't seem to understand that." Bobby listened to Sam's words with a heavy heart, he knew that the hunter's lifestyle had been hard for Sam and that John hadn't exactly made it any easier. It was just that Sam had always been an emotional kid who cared about everything and anything and preferred to ask questions and find solutions instead of killing off the bat and John had always seen this as weakness, unlike Dean who seemed to love that Sam was different and was okay with his brother being his own person. Bobby tried to interfere where he could and take care of the boys to allow them to be kids for a little longer but John had always dragged them back even though it was obvious that Sam would have been a lot happier staying in one place and nurturing his love of books and other nerdy things that his father considered a waste of time.

"You're a good kid Sam, don't you ever forget that," Bobby eventually said, taking hold of his hand and allowing his overall presence to soothe the youngest Winchester as unfortunately there were no words that could make up for the last 16 years. Bobby just hoped that John wouldn't return to the hunt too soon as it would be unbelievably hard on both the boys and would worsen their already strained views on their questionable upbringing.

. . .

"Son of a bitch!" John swore as he listened to Dean's account of how Paige had practically mauled Sam's face.

"I know," Dean said solemnly, letting the horrible words wash over his dad as his face twisted into a mess of rage, anguish and upset all at the same time.

"I'm gonna fucking slaughter that bitch!" he fumed, pushing past Dean and stalking off down the corridor, away from Sam's room.

"Woah Dad!" Dean called, running after his father and grabbing him by the arm, "Where the hell do you think you're going?!"

"I'm going to get Sam's revenge!" John seethed, trying to wrestle himself away from his determined son.

"I don't think so, Dad!" Dean retorted, "I know you want to finish that monster off and, trust me, I do too but she's not the one who needs you right now, Sam is. He's still really hurt and you disappearing off for long periods of time isn't going to help. He already knows your back, imagine how it would feel to him if he found out you were in the hospital but decided to leave again because you had more important things to do than be with him."

"Killing the bitch is important, Dean!" John snapped.

"Not more important that your own son!" Dean snapped back, "Now I want you to put your happy face back on and march your ass back into Sam's room so you can see how much he truly needs you. He's already done so well and I couldn't be prouder but there's still a long way to go and you better be there every step of the way or you may as well leave and never come back, there'll be no disappearing off on a case for days on end! It will destroy Sam to have you constantly leaving before he gets better so grow up and make a decision, you either leave now and don't come back until I say you can or you can toughen up and learn to be a good father before it's too late." John recoiled in shock, Dean had never spoken back to him like this before. He let the words tumble around in his head for a few moments before the truth dawned on him and he stared at Dean with a new set of eyes, the eyes he should have been wearing since Mary's death. Without a second thought, he pulled away from Dean and made his way swiftly over to Sam's room before taking a deep breath and opening the door.

Dean watched with anticipation and breathed a sigh of relief when John made the right decision, there would have been hell to pay if he decided to leave. But John had done the right thing in the end and, for the first time in days, Dean felt like maybe things would be okay after all.

 **Thank you for reading and don't hesitate to leave a review, I really appreciate them. I know I talk about John a lot in this chapter and I know that a lot of people have different opinions on whether he raised his boys right or not but please don't hate me if you disagree with what I'm saying, this is just how I personally feel. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and that you have an incredible day.**


	25. Chapter 25

**THE LAST CHAPTER IS FINALLY HERE! I am so so so so so so sorry this has taken so long. I had exams and then Christmas and then I had to deal with some stuff and then the schoolwork started piling up again and I must have written about a thousand versions of this chapter before I finally settled for this, I REALLY hope you enjoy this.**

 **Note: A lot of mentions of suicide in this chapter, the ending isn't entirely happy but it's not entirely sad either.**

Paige couldn't find it in herself to mourn over the fact that her husband had just been killed in front of her, it was extraordinary that she even cared at all. Paige and Michael's marriage had been based around many things but love was never one of them. Sure, they told each other that they meant the world to one another but the words never contained any meaning; it was more about sex and refusing to stay single. The children they had together were no different, the only reason they had even tried to have one was to please Michael's mother who'd always been desperate for grandchildren. The 'joy' they were supposed to experience when they found out they were expecting twins was more of a dull sense of dread and it only heightened when they later realised they were unintentionally expecting a third child.

They tried to make their makeshift family work, they really did, but the truth was Michael and Paige just didn't love each other and stubbornly refused to love their children because of this. Killing the twins had actually been a relief, even if they did tell themselves they were only doing it to please the demons they had discovered. The truth was, neither Paige nor Michael actually cared about the existence of the supernatural but the fact that they finally had an excuse to get rid of the children who they never wanted was too good to ignore. They only told themselves it was for the demons so they didn't feel too guilty when they watched the blood soak their basement floor.

But then everything changed: they were caught. A small hunting family burst through the door and suddenly they were at gun point, breathing in what they expected would be their last ever dose of oxygen. But the little boy with the puppy eyes spoke up and sirens started wailing and then there were iron bars that never changed once in the six years they spent behind them. It was an even crappier way of life, one that neither of them would ever recover from. In the end, it was what caused their sudden change of heart, now they actually had something to live for; they both longed for the day that they would be set free and could get their hands on the small, shaggy haired child who'd sentenced them to a life of misery. And they'd do it properly this time: no badly drawn sigils, no sloppy incantations, no pathetic attempts at a summoning. This time they were actually going to try and grab the attention of a real demon because what better revenge would there be than subjecting the boy to all the horrors of hell once they'd finished with him. It would be the move that finally broke John Winchester.

Unfortunately, this plan was destined to fail; there was no way anyone could get their hands on Sam for long before a seriously overprotective father and brother hulked out and willingly did anything to protect their youngest. The Andersons had seriously underestimated them.

Paige realised this the moment her husband's chest failed to rise and the knife sticking out of it was slowly pulled out. It had finally dawned on her that she might actually be about to die; she wouldn't get any second chances this time, no small child was going to open their mouth and tentatively suggest that they don't kill the monsters this time because this time the child was actually watching.

Sam sat in the corner of the room, Dean stood a few feet in front of him, his feet apart and stance strong, practically daring anyone to try and get past him to his little brother. John stood over Michael, his face a mask of angry satisfaction as blood pooled at his feet and Michael's lifeless eyes looked up at him in a silent plea for help. Rufus and Bill stood either side of him, both of them brandishing weapons that had been used to inflict unimaginable pain. Sam had merely watched the torture with dark eyes, his face showing nothing.

It was clear that it had taken some convincing for him to be allowed back in the Andersons' presence but now that he was he didn't do anything, just sat silently and watched as one of them was pulled apart in front of him. If it made him uncomfortable, he didn't show it and Paige furiously found herself admiring the boy: he was either really brave or really good at pretending to be.

Hope draining, Paige told herself that she may be able to talk Sam into turning back into the child he once was; the child that refused to let his father kill two humans. It was a long shot but it was all she had left and she wasn't one to give up easily.

"Sam," she began, her voice hoarse and weak, "You can't let this happen to me."

Sam slowly turned his head in her direction, his eyes flashing dangerously as he took in her fake look of sadness and pathetic attempt at sympathy. He merely smirked as John strode over and backhanded her harshly, demanding that she keep her mouth shut and filthy words away from his son. Paige closed her eyes as the impact jarred her already broken body, she knew she only had one chance left now so she turned back to Sam and took in all of his weaknesses. His face was more scratches than skin, bandages were visible all over him and a pair of crutches lay dejectedly next to his wrapped ankle but it was the slim, white bandage on his left wrist that caught her attention. Paige immediately knew that she had not been responsible for whatever wound lay underneath it and the thought excited her so much that she didn't think before she spoke, realising too late that she'd just signed her own death warrant.

"Would you look at that?" she teased maliciously, "Baby Winchester couldn't take it anymore, decided to finally put an end to his pathetic existence. It's a pretty good job too Sammy because otherwise your daddy would have blamed me and killed me and we all know you lot don't kill humans."

The tension in the room ricocheted and Dean began vibrating with rage, desperate to cut the throat of the woman who'd done so much damage to his family. But Sam remained calm, he continued to stare at her as he opened his mouth and spoke with a voice so low and so dangerous it sent a shiver down the spines of everyone in the room.

"You're not a human," he whispered, "You're a monster."

And those were the last words Paige Anderson ever heard before she noticed the knife buried deep in her chest and how the world suddenly seemed to be going dark.

. . .

"You alright, Sammy?" came the tentative voice from the front seat.

"I told you Dean, I'm fine," Sam replied from where he was curled up in the back seat.

"I know you are kiddo," Dean said, smirking a little at how Sam rolled his eyes, "Just remember, we're-"

"Not far away from Bobby's now," Sam interrupted, "Dean you've said that like ten times in the last five minutes."

"Have not."

"Have."

"Well I'm just looking out for you Sammy," Dean said, trying to sound amused but failing as the stress from the last few weeks shone through, he still didn't know what his dad had said to Sam but whatever it was, it worked. Sam seemed to be fitting into the family better than ever.

"I know you are, Dean," Sam said, "I know you are."

. . .

By the time the impala reached Singer Salvage, Sam was fast asleep, his legs stretched out to protect his ankles, his torso straight to protect his ribs, his arm draped over his chest to protect his wrist. It was scary that Sam had to adapt his body position so drastically just to sleep without pain but, unfortunately, it was to be expected and they all knew that Sam would eventually recover physically, it was the mental scars they were truly worried about.

But they vowed to cross that bridge when it came to it and just be there for Sam while they waited, it was the least they could do after everything he had been through.

John got out the impala and grabbed all the bags they needed as Dean opened the bag door and slowly pulled his brother out of the car, trying not to wake him or jostle his wounds. John unlocked the door and checked the salt lines whilst Dean settled Sam on the sofa, trying to ignore how light his little brother was. The coffee maker was then put on and the Winchesters easily fell into routine, almost able to pretend the Sam was merely napping whilst they waited for Bobby, Rufus and Bill to return from a hunt. But that wasn't case, Sam was, in fact, sleeping off the exhaustion form his wounds and Bobby, Rufus and Bill were behind because they were salting and burning the bodies of the people who tortured him. But John and Dean were both trying not to think about that.

This was soon disturbed, however, as the rumble of trucks sounded outside and Sam moaned in his sleep, disturbed by the noise of slamming doors and heavy boot prints. Dean always found it funny how Sam jostled awake at the slightest of noise but was able to sleep soundly over the rumble of the impala, he would later come to realise that this was because it was the only home Sam had ever known growing up.

The front door swung open and Sam bolted up from where he was lying, disturbed by the fact someone else was coming in the room.

"It's alright kiddo, it's only us," Bill said softly as he stepped over the salt line and flashed the teen a sad smile.

"Oh… sorry," Sam said, face flushing in embarrassment.

"Nothing to be sorry for, Sammy," Dean said, flopping down beside his brother and handing him a drink, "Just try and wait until we've actually arrived before you fall asleep next time, I had to haul your heavy ass in here myself."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

. . .

Sam tiredly pulled himself up the stairs with his crutches, excited at the thought of finally being able to collapse onto a bed that didn't smell of hospital scrubs and disinfectant. Dean, of course, had offered to carry Sam up to the bedroom but he was feeling more and more like an invalid as the day progressed and he just wanted to be able to say he had done something by himself. At least Dean was right behind him and ready to catch him should he fall backwards and he was about 99.9% the other four were all lurking at the bottom of the stairs so he could most definitely say he'd gotten his family back. Constantly turning into a mother hen was something you wouldn't normally expect a Winchester to do but Winchesters didn't usually meet expectations and this was certainly no exception.

"Almost there, Sammy," came the reassuring voice from behind and Sam found himself grateful for it, he'd missed Dean's voice during his time with the Andersons and hearing it again was the final push he needed to put his crutch on the top step and pull himself up, relishing in the fact that he'd actually done it.

"Way to go little brother," Dean said, flashing Sam a million dollar smile and helping him lean against the wall and get his breath back, "I can't believe you actually did it."

"M-me neither," Sam panted through a grin, "Told you I could do it."

"Yeah you did," Dean said happily, "Now see if you can make it to the bedroom, I'll grab your stuff."

"Thanks Dean," Sam said, manoeuvring his crutches so he could use them again and disappearing around the corner as Dean dashed downstairs where he'd accidentally left Sam's duffel. It didn't take him long to find it, however, as the moment he stepped into the kitchen it smacked him in the face and tumbled down into his arms.

"Figured you'd come looking for that," John said, trying to hold back a grin as he hit the bullseye.

"Ha ha, very funny," Dean said slinging it over his shoulder and turning around towards the staircase. "Sam made it all the way up the stairs by the way," he added as he sprinted up.

"That's my boy!" John shouted back, actually letting himself grin this time as he swelled with pride at how quickly his youngest was recovering,

"Alright Sammy I better not find you've fallen off the bed or something," Dean called as he walked down the hallway and into the bedroom.

"No, I'm fine," Sam said from where he was perched on the bed.

"Good," Dean said, throwing the bag to Sam, "Now get ready because we've got a long night of sleep ahead of us."

. . .

Sam jerked awake, eyes widened in terror as he bolted up in bed and winced at the pain the movement caused him. He scanned the room quickly, checking there were no immediate threats as the adrenalin from the nightmare slowly leaked out of him and he leant back on the headboard, still too jumpy to go to sleep. He brought up a shaky hand and tried to wipe the remains of tears from his face as his breathing began to slow and he reassured himself that he was at Bobby's and there was no nearby danger.

How could he be so stupid to think that he could be happy again? Of course he was still going to suffer, the Andersons had made sure of that. He just wished he could have one night free of nightmares, was that really so much to ask? Or did he really deserve everything that had happened to him like the Andersons said?

But in the end, it wasn't the Andersons who'd hurt Sam the most, it was him. He'd taken a piece of broken glass attempted to end his pain with it. Sam hadn't really thought about that since he'd gotten out but now it seemed impossible to ignore, Dean and dad probably felt strongly about it too but Sam was glad that they hadn't yet asked about it, he really didn't know what he would have said.

Needing to know the full extent of what he'd done, Sam used his trembling hand to slowly pull off the bandage on his left wrist, wincing as it tugged softly on his skin. Once he was done, he quickly discarded the tattered bandage on his bed side table and swung his legs over the bed so he was properly sat up and directly in the light that the small window cast into the room.

Taking a deep breath, he hesitantly lowered his eyes and stared at the ugly red scar on his wrist, it was jagged and fierce, not at all what he expected. Sure, he knew rainbows and puppies weren't going to come bursting out his hand but he didn't realise that the scar would look so… _angry_. It was going to be impossible to ignore and would serve as a harsh reminder of everything that had happened to him.

Before he knew it, tears were leaking down his face and sobs were racking his entire body. Clamping his hand over his mouth, he tried to stop them but nothing could hold back the overwhelming sadness that had suddenly gripped him. Why couldn't he be okay for once in his life?

"Sammy?" it didn't take long for the soft voice to speak up from behind him, Sam almost winced at how vulnerable the voice sounded but instead he just turned to face Dean who's face fell when he locked eyes with Sam's bandage-free wrist

"Oh Sammy," he whispered, his face a mess of fear and despair, "It's gonna be okay." Sam just shook his head through the tears and turned back around, wishing that all the bad feelings would just _go away_.

Strong arms encased him and he was pulled into a warm chest, his tears immediately soaking into his older brother's t-shirt as soft words were spoken in his ear. Sam just continued to cry as he was rocked back and forth, feeling like he was unworthy of his brother's love, feeling so disgusting after what he'd done to himself but also feeling like it was the right thing to do because he'd just gone and ruined everything again.

"I am so sorry," he whispered into Dean's chest, "I am so so sorry."

Dean pulled back and Sam looked up at him, noticing that Dean had tears spilling down his own face and was staring at him in shock, "What are you sorry for, Sam?"

"I don't know," Sam sniffled, "I just… I feel so… disgusting. I hurt myself, Dean. I hurt myself and I almost died. How messed up is that?! And yet, sometimes I wish I succeeded because now I just feel so awful. I feel awful because I put you through hell this week and the Andersons told me you didn't love me and I believed them Dean! How could I do that?! How could I doubt you like that?! Maybe if I'd actually died then we wouldn't be stuck in this mess."

"Oh god," Dean said, a look of utter despair written across his features. Sam cringed, he'd never _ever_ seen Dean look so broken before, panic seized him before he could even think straight. He'd done this to Dean, he'd betrayed his own brother, Dean was going to hate him…

"Oh god, Sammy," the voice came again and arms encased Sam once more as he froze in their grip.

"Dean, you're not m-mad at me?" he asked shyly, leaning into the strength Dean was providing him.

"Never Sam," he replied, his face nuzzled in Sam's hair, "I could never be mad at you."

"Never?"

"Never."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

 **So there you have it, the story is over. Feel free to review my ending and tell me how you felt. Thanks to EVERYONE who has followed/favourited/reviewed, you have honestly made this so much fun and I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it. Once again, I am sorry this is so late but I hope you liked it anyway.**

 **-hotelcortez xx**


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